


Witness

by puffabilly



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Action/Romance, Eventual Clint/Darcy Romance, F/M, Team Delta in Action
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2013-02-14
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:18:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puffabilly/pseuds/puffabilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy is called to be a witness at the State Armed Services Committee's investigation of the Avengers.  All Clint has to do is keep her out of trouble...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_NY Ledger – March 13 th 2013_

_Washington DC – Day three of the United Authorised Defence Program Hearing will begin this morning.  The evidence to be presented to the State Armed Services Committee will continue its focus on the prior actions of the group known as The Avengers.  As stated by Senator Bonyton, a member of the S.A.S. Committee; “We demand answers about what this group of vigilantes have done and what threat they may pose.”  The witness list includes Dr Erik Selvig, Dr Jane Foster and Miss Darcy Lewis, who were present during an altercation in New Mexico._

Darcy slid out her phone to check the time.  Another hour had passed but here she was, alongside Jane and Dr Selvig, waiting to be called before the committee.  The hard wooden bench they sat upon, one of the dozens spaced evenly along the shiny white hallways in the government building, was less than comfortable.  The cheap poly/rayon pant suit she’d been stuck with since college was rough against her skin.  The whole thing sucked.

Squirming on the seat to try and get settled again, Darcy noticed the coiled bun she’d spent ages wrangling Jane’s hair into had begun to unravel.   Then again, all morning Jane had been rapidly alternating between picking at the hem of her business skirt and chewing at a fingernail.  Even the best hairdo could only stand constant nervous twitching for so long.  At least Dr S. at the end of the bench appeared calm.  Mostly.  He just watched Jane, his face etched with concern.  Darcy wasn’t a big fan of public speaking but despite being one of the most tenacious scientists on the planet, Jane was utterly phobic about it.   So when Jane hunched over again to review the sweaty notes clutched in her palms, Dr S. began to rub her back gently.

Rather than crowd her hyper-stressed friend, Darcy left the reassuring gestures to Dr S.  Her gaze instead wandered over to the trio’s designated ‘protection unit.’  It was the first time she’d seen Clint or Natasha going incognito and she had to admit, it was kind of impressive how they blended into the Washington crowd.  Even without the addition of Natasha’s blond wig and heavy-framed glasses for Clint, the pair had changed their entire demeanour from S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to generic D.C. workers.  The casual observer would be hard pressed to recognise either of the pair as the heroes who’d been fighting aliens in New York last year.

“What if they do ask?” Jane’s urgent whisper to Dr S. interrupted Darcy’s thoughts.  “Maybe it would be better if I just told the truth?”

“Really?” Darcy interjected, feeling herself perk up.  “Because I’m still ready to set those suits straight about who the good guys are.”

Even though they’d barely been talking above a whisper, Natasha broke off from her quiet conversation with Clint and crossed the few short steps to lean over them.  Anyone passing by would see a woman with a clipboard and pleasant smile, pen poised to tick something off a list.  But Natasha’s tone was firm and Darcy was fairly sure the pen was an incognito deadly weapon.  “Guys, we made the decision.  You three are to avoid identifying yourselves as being linked to the Avengers.  Unfortunate bystanders.  Took in a crazy homeless man you’d hit with a car.  Total shock when he returned later wielding a hammer.”  Jane looked set to protest and Natasha leaned closer, her voice transforming to become gentle and soothing.  “I know you want to defend Thor and the others.  But this is a hostile committee.  Nothing you say will change their minds.  You’ll only be making yourself a target for anyone who believes a girlfriend is a leverage tool in the making.”  Natasha smiled the warmest, most reassuring smile anyone could imagine.  “So.  Unfortunate bystanders.  Ok?”  Jane nodded slowly and Darcy just leant back, even as her eyes narrowed in contemplation.  Seriously, Natasha could manipulate anyone.  Darcy had seen her assassin/spy powers in effect a few times by now. 

From the moment their names appeared on the inquiry witness list, the jackbooted thugs from New Mexico a.k.a. S.H.I.E.L.D. had reappeared.  Jane had been dragged out of the lab and Darcy had been retrieved from graduate unemployment land.  They were relocated to a temporary safe house.  It was sold to them as ‘protective custody’.  Which was fine until approximately 0.02 seconds after a S.H.E.I.L.D agent let slip that his superiors were already planning their statements for the committee.  And as Thor was back on Earth semi-permanently, he’d discovered pretty quickly that his girlfriend and her former intern a.k.a. “the civilians” weren’t fans of being shut out of the decision making process.  ‘Discovered’ meaning that he’d walked in on a yelling match between a senior agent and an infuriated Darcy/Jane combo.  While Darcy wanted to believe it had been her beguiling charm that had changed things, really she knew that Thor had used his Avengers leverage to get them clearance.    Not that everyone involved was thrilled by that turn of events.  But still, Darcy and Jane had started sitting in on meetings.   

The next few days had been pow-wow after pow-wow between them and Dr. S. and a rotating cast of others from S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers and anyone else with a vested interest.  S.H.I.E.L.D. apparently had rights over Dr. Selvig and turned out to even employ a couple of the Avengers.  Tony Stark had turned up on occasion, but most often his proxy Pepper Potts was in attendance along with Steve Rogers and Thor on behalf of the Avengers themselves.    Admittedly, parts of the meeting details went over Darcy’s head but she’d learnt pretty quickly that the committee being formed in Washington was full of hostile senators who’d previously labelled the Avengers with terms like ‘vigilantes’, ‘unrestrained’ and ‘dangerous’.  It was also apparent that whoever was driving the ‘United Authorised Defence Program Hearing’ was operating out of the reach of S.H.I.E.L.D.’s influence, which had irritated a couple of people named Fury and Hill.

Hour after hour, the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. had debated the level of witch-hunt going on, what the hidden agenda was and what ‘the civilians’ like her should say.  Avoiding any mention of S.H.I.E.L.D. was the obvious no brainer.  But it had gotten sticky when the sentiment in the meeting was that Jane and Darcy would have to deny knowing Thor in any real capacity and let the committee paint a negative light over what happened in New Mexico.   Darcy’s stand from the start was that she wouldn’t be pushed around, Thor and the others had totally saved them all and she was totally ready to tell the legislators in Washington where to stick their inquest.   And Jane had been in agreement, even when Thor tried to dissuade them both.  So the sneaky demi-god had brought Natasha in to the meetings.  Not long after, Jane had flipped her position and was happy to go along with the ‘sit down and shut up’ plan.  Even worse, Darcy had somehow ended up conforming.  A decision she still hated, even if she still hadn’t quite figured out how Natasha had manipulated her into it.  But after seeing Black Widow convince the guards at the security checkpoint in the Senate building that they really didn’t need to body search her or her associates, Darcy couldn’t do anything except respect the woman and her ridiculous powers of persuasion.

In comparison, Clint was simpler to deal with.  Or at least, more direct.  Once he’d been assigned to their protection duty, he’d met up with Jane and Darcy and talked them through the security protocols and what to do in worst case scenarios.  Apparently Dr S.’s super-secret-time with the super-secret-team meant he already knew the drill.  So he was spared the initial teething problems where Darcy had ignored the safety procedure and snuck out past the safe house guards to queue for the midnight release of the new iPhone.  Clint had been the one to find her and a rumour had circulated the next day that he’d been forced to throw ‘the civilian’ over his shoulder as she refused to leave the Apple store.  Which, as Darcy had explained to anyone who would listen, was mostly untrue. 

After that little adventure had been resolved, Darcy had found being the new kid with the escort wasn’t all bad.   Just last night, Clint had knocked on their D.C. hotel room door and after witnessing Jane’s nervous pacing around the room and Darcy threatening to smother herself with a pillow, Clint had returned ten minutes later with a laptop.  He handed the laptop to Jane so she could Skype with Thor over a secure connection and then took Darcy to the hotel bar where they’d shared a couple of beers and watched a hockey game between some easy banter. 

“How do you think it’ll go tomorrow?” Darcy had asked while being escorted back to her room.

Clint had taken a moment before replying.  “The questions will be aggressive.  Going to be tough for you to not get worked up by that.”

Darcy had nodded in acknowledgement.  They’d reached her door and she’d paused to rummage in her pocket for the keycard.  “I figure in the end, it’s harder for you guys.  You’re the ones getting slandered by that committee. I just have to keep my mouth shut.”

The briefest of smiles had broken Barton’s otherwise serious visage.  “After the past few weeks, I know that’s a big sacrifice for you Darcy. “  And he’d ushered her through the door before she’d had a chance to reply.  


	2. Chapter 2

_ United Authorised Defence Program Hearing Extract  
_

_S. Boynton: Witnesses state you were in the company of the aliens._  
 _D. Lewis: Look, I don't know if you saw the photos but some of those guys were hot. Like, seriously cut. Why wouldn't I hang out with them?_  
 _Sen. Boynton: So in summary, you were flirting with a hostile alien species as they brought their war to a US city?_  
 _D. Lewis: No. I mean (pause) not when you put it like that. I was (pause)_  
 _Sen. Boynton: Doing what, Miss Lewis? Because I'm still failing to grasp what a liberal arts student was even doing with an astrophysicist?_  
 _D. Lewis: I was a political science student (long pause)... and I drove the van._  
 _Sen. Boynton: Which I'm sure it was a fine use of your college credits, Miss Lewis._

* * *

"It was a disaster. I'm a disaster." Darcy slumped onto the bench after giving a brief summary of her question and answer session. "You'd better not suck as bad as I did," she yelled down the corridor towards Dr Selvig, who was being escort by Natasha to the hearing room. He was due to give his testimony in just a few minutes and Darcy it could only hope it went better than her recently concluded debacle.

"I'm sure you were fine." Jane said, even while her fingers were continuing their nervous tugging on her skirt.

"It was terrible. I mean, I knew they were going to be jerks. But everything I said got twisted by that megajerk senator Boynton. I wanted to jump across the room and strangle him with his ugly, distracting green-and-blue tie." Darcy's eyes narrowed at Clint, who was still casually leaning against the wall with a suitcase dangling from one hand. She jabbed a finger in his direction, barely able to restrain her rambling voice to a whisper. "Teach Jane how to do that before she goes in. With the tie. Like, in the next ten minutes. Then they won't have the chance to imply she got her doctorate out of a cereal box or something."

Clint crossed the hallway, a hand reaching for Darcy's shoulder to give a gentle squeeze. His posture was slouched beneath his rumpled suit, shoulders weighed down to resemble every low-level grunt running around Washington. Like Natasha he was seamlessly blending into the scenery. But behind the fake glasses, his eyes were still 100% bodyguard/assassin. It was reassuring yet intimidating at the same time. "You did the job, just like we asked. They shouldn't identify you as a threat or an asset. Now you're just Darcy, the girl who flirts with E.T.."

Slumping further into her seat, Darcy folded her arms across her chest. Clint's deadpan delivery wasn't helping and she felt a full blown ramble-rant coming on. "So I didn't have a better comeback. I don't care what the jackass made _me_ look like. It's the rest of it that still blows. You guys are the heroes. Why do they want to make it seem otherwise?"

If Clint had an answer for her, it was cut off by Jane suddenly leaning forward and pressing her chest into her knees while groaning, "Oh my god. I can't do this."

Darcy began to gently rub Jane's back, just as Dr S. had earlier. Then she realised her friend's breath was becoming a little too ragged as the panic took a firmer hold. Before Darcy had a chance to say anything, Clint was crouching by Jane's side. "C'mon Doc. Keep breathing," he murmured while helping Jane sit upright.

"Full exhale." Darcy added while she took Jane's hand and squeezed gently. She and Clint alternated with talking Jane through each breath, forcing her to slow down until her chest was working at a steady pace again. A memory nudged around in Darcy's head; Jane had once vaguely mentioned in New Mexico that she'd passed out ("Definitely, absolutely, was not fainting") before being due to give a speech at some astrophysics conference. She'd blamed it on low sugar levels but Dr S. had muttered that Jane's fear of public speaking was going to hold her career back.

"You ok?" Darcy asked gently.

Jane managed a weak nod. "Yes. At least, I think so. But with what you were saying... I just started imagining that room, full of people... "

Darcy bumped her shoulder lightly against Jane. "Too much thinking is what gets you and your big brain into trouble. Don't think so much. Focus on the important stuff. For example... right now... my focus is that I need to pee." Casually brushing imaginary lint off her pants, Darcy stood and ignored the look Clint was giving.

"You need to stay where I can see you," he ordered.

"Tell that to my bladder. I'll be two minutes. Just try to keep our astrophysicist here from passing out while I'm gone." The frown on Clint's brow deepened as his gaze flicked between the two women. It seemed a safe bet to Darcy that Clint wouldn't leave Thor's girlfriend alone after a near panic attack just to follow her into the bathroom. So Darcy offered her most trustworthy grin, turned on her heel and walked down the hallway. After a few moments, when she hadn't felt a hand latch on to drag her back, she breathed a sigh of relief.

The solid pine door with the black-and-white sign indicating the ladies room passed by on her left. So maybe Darcy hadn't actually needed to pee. But she did need to get out of there before she said anything else that might upset Jane further. Clint was taking good care of her and also... Darcy wanted a chance to gather her thoughts and deal with the gnawing sense of frustration that had been chewing at her stomach since her turn before the committee. So she located the emergency stairwell and climbed her way to the rooftop.

A blast of cold air hit her as Darcy pushed the heavy fire door open and she tugged her suit jacket tighter around herself. The building was large and blocky and, like she'd guessed, the roof was flat and clear apart from clusters of big heating vents breaking up the space. Darcy paced across the grey concrete surface, trying to stay warm against the chilly March morning. She'd realised she'd only have a limited amount of time before Clint or Natasha came looking for her but freezing temperatures be damned, she was taking some time out.

It wasn't as if she'd expected this to be easy. One of the last essays Darcy had handed in before leaving for her internship had been for her Politics and Media class. She had referenced quotes from the infamous exchange between Stark and Senator Stern, back when the government wanted the Iron Man suit. She'd known the words off by heart at one point, everything from " _The suit and I are one"_ onwards _._ So Darcy had already seen the methodology of the State Armed Services Committee in action before S.H.I.E.L.D. had handed her a briefing pack. But at the hotel last night, after having said goodnight to Clint, Darcy had retrieved the laptop and rewatched the video on YouTube. Some part of Darcy had hoped that, somehow, she'd pull off a Tony Stark. Ignore the orders, unleash the full-force snark and take a stand. Decimate the committee with her cutting words. Defend her friends and their allies, not let them be derided and slandered. But she hadn't. Frustrated, Darcy kicked the nearest vent before cursing when her big toe began to throb through her sensible business shoes.

A slam of the steel fire door suddenly vibrated through the air. Startled, Darcy pressed herself behind the vent she'd just lashed out at. Last thing she or anyone needed was for her to get dragged through the government building by some underpaid security guard. "What is it?" The voice was lowered but the tense, sharp words carried across the open rooftop. Darcy was instantly sure she knew who it was. Even from just those few syllables, she recognised the impatient tone of the man that had just hounded her for a solid twenty minutes.

Darcy sneaked her head around the corner of the vent. Sure enough, there was Senator Boynton and his damn awful green-and-blue tie. The senator was pacing near the ledge, his brow speckled with sweat despite the cold and his focus was entirely on the terse phone conversation. Darcy cautiously drew back before the senator saw her. Interest thoroughly piqued, she slowly drew out her phone and started to listen closely.

"Make it quick. I had to call recess to take this." A few moments of silence passed, aside from the scrape of his shoes striding back and forth. It gave Darcy enough time to force her chilled fingers to locate the microphone app on her handset and flick it on. After all, the rule was 'photos or it didn't happen.' Or audio in this case. Darcy hadn't had a reason to test the range of her phone mic yet, so she could only hope it would pick up enough. "The committee is proceeding as fast as humanly possible. If you want results that will stick, you will need the legislation behind it. For that, we need to establish the Avengers as a threat first. Tell Manfredi to be patient." Another drawn out pause.

Darcy grimaced and imagined the satisfaction of getting to taser this dodgy politician. But if she couldn't zap him... Darcy flicked her phone to video record mode and shifted around to carefully angle the camera until she could see the senator in the screen. It left her a little more at risk of being seen but while audio recordings were good, video that CNN could broadcast was even better. Incriminating evidence was worth the risk of getting caught. Darcy crossed her fingers that the senator was about to say something that would shut down the committee for good.

"I understand. Hydra will get their desired results. Just give me time." And with a beep Senator Boynton ended the call. In her screen, Darcy watched the man reach for a handkerchief and wipe down his forehead. He mightn't have provided her a career destroying sound bite, but something clearly was going on. The harried way the senator pulled out a pack of cigarettes before lighting one up and inhaling deeply made Darcy wonder if the man was actually scared right then.

Feeling the urge to get out of there as soon as possible, Darcy edged around the vent and looked towards the doorway. No chance she would make it without the senator seeing her. She'd have to wait him out. Or at least, that was the plan. The plan Darcy had to throw away the moment her cell phone began to chime out "Call Me Maybe" - a fantastically ironic ringtone last summer but now was not when she wanted it to be blasting at full volume. Clint's number was on her screen when she jabbed at the "Reject Call" button.

"Who's there?" Senator Boynton's voice cracked through the air.

Oh crap.


	3. Chapter 3

" _It's voicemail. You know what to do."_

" _Darcy... call me back. Now. Or I'm sending Natasha to find you."_

* * *

Inwardly cursing as she switched her phone to silent mode, Darcy stepped from behind the vent and offered her brightest 'ignore-me-because-I'm-so-not-a-threat' smile while her brain scrambled for a believable excuse. "Senator. Didn't hear you come up here. Been trying to call my... gynecologist." _Really brain, that was the best you could come up with_? She added a nonchalant shrug, hoping it wasn't obvious that her heart was pounding in her chest. "But since it's way freezing up here, I'm going inside. Enjoy your cancer stick." The forced grin still plastered on, Darcy began taking quick steps towards the doorway.

"Just hold on a moment Miss Lewis." The senator had dropped his cigarette and was walking toward her. He didn't look happy.

"Sorry. Gotta go." Darcy's fingers wrapped around the icy metal door handle and she tried to tug it open. But Boynton was suddenly there, his shoulder ramming into the door and forcing it shut again. He was a tall man and he loomed over Darcy menacingly.

"What did you hear?" His breath clouded in the cold air. Each word was forceful, just as it had been in the committee hearing.

With a jut of her chin, Darcy stared up at the senator. She'd been forced to play nice with this douche so far. But Darcy dealt with S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and astrophysicists on a daily basis. If this guy thought he could intimidate her, he had another thing coming. "I heard nothing except the message on my ob/gyn's answering service. Now would you mind getting your ass out of my way?"

Boynton flicked his gaze to the iPhone, still gripped tightly in Darcy's left hand, as it dangling by her side. "Give me your cell first."

"No." The senator grabbed at her. Darcy tried to dodge but his reflexes were quick and even if he missed the phone, his large fingers still latched onto her arm. He began to squeeze. Hard. The pain shot up through her limb in an instant and she almost dropped the phone and all the evidence it contained. But maybe Darcy acting like a vapid former student earlier had payed off, because Boynton didn't have his guard up. So he wasn't able to block or avoid the knee Darcy landed in his groin.

A triumphant "Hah!" was the only thing Darcy was able to get out before she was scrambling for the door handle again. The senator was hunched over but not sobbing on the floor like she'd hoped. There were only seconds to get out. With an arm still throbbing in pain, Darcy had to wrench the heavy door open with one hand. She felt her shoulder muscles protest at the exertion.

"Stop..." Senator Boynton was recovering quickly and even still bent over, he snatched at Darcy as she slipped through the doorway. She felt his fingertips brush her leg and then she was in the stairwell. Feet moving faster than she ever thought possible, Darcy hurtled downwards and barrelled out through the first exit she reached. Blinking against the harsh halogen lights but not breaking her sprint, Darcy aimed to the right as she tried to recall the layout of the building. But she'd only seen the bottom floor and this level so far was just one long corridor broken up by evenly spaced off-white doors with silvery name tags stuck above the security card readers. _Supplies room #24. Storage Room #13_. Not exactly the social hub of the building.

Darcy rounded a corner and took a moment to lean against a wall, her chest burning from the desperate running. Cardio was not her friend. As she tried to catch her breath and form a plan, the iPhone began to vibrate in her hand. "Don't yell," she wheezed into the receiver in greeting.

"Where are you?" Clint's voice came down the line.

"Yeah. About that." The ominous clang of a heavy door shutting echoed down the corridor. Darcy pushed away from the wall and began walking, trying to keep her footsteps and voice as muffled as possible. "I'm on the top floor and I kind of busted a senator being corrupt and I kicked him in the balls and I think he's after me."

There wasn't even a pause. "Is he armed?"

"No. But he's pissed."

"Can you hide?"

"Not yet," Darcy said as she tried a random door. The handle for _Supply Room #11_ didn't budge. A hint of panic bubbled at the back of her brain, but having Clint on the phone, with his steady and calm voice, kept it at bay.

"Then buy some time. Run if you're in danger. I'll find you." And the call disconnected.

Running sounded like a good idea. Despite the protest from her lungs, Darcy dashed down the hall until she could turn again. Another empty row of doors. She ran past them and took a right. And another right. Just when she was worried she would run out of corridors, the glint of silver caught her eye. Elevator doors. Darcy skidded to a halt and pressed the down button repeatedly while looking over her shoulder, ready to bolt if needed. But the hall behind her was still deserted. No footsteps warning the senator was close. The quiet was broken only when the elevator pinged its arrival a moment later. The doors slid open. Darcy hesitated; she might get cornered in the small space. But then again, one short trip and she'd be back on the busy ground floor. After a final backwards glance, Darcy stepped in. Maybe it was futile, but she clenched her fists and raised them both, ready to at least attempt to defend herself if the senator appeared. Time seemed to stretch but then the doors slid shut and the elevator began descending.

Relaxing her fingers, Darcy watched the floors numbers tick down. 5. 4. 3. Then it slowed and stopped on the second floor. As the doors began to open, two large men immediately stepped in. The urge to run hit hard when the pair turned around quickly, standing shoulder to shoulder so they blocked the elevator exit. Even if the senator hadn't found her, it looked like he might've called in some buddies. Or was she being paranoid? Then one goon reached for the 'close' button and held it down firmly. Darcy saw the scars etched over the man's hand. With a sinking feeling she was fairly certain they weren't about to let her out, even if she asked nicely.

Suddenly a large black briefcase was wedged between the closing doors. "Hold the lift," yelled a female voice. Grunting, one of the men tried to shove the bag out of the way before the motion sensors kicked in. But the owner was resilient and the doors began to slide open. "Sorry..." Natasha said, as lowered the briefcase and stepped inside. "But I don't like waiting." She didn't radiate any threat, but just took up her spot in the elevator like she belonged there. Like any other pushy D.C worker.

"Room for one more?" Clint skidded in behind Natasha. He slid the fake glasses up his nose and a goofy smile appeared on his lips when he appeared to notice Darcy. "Baby, I've been looking all over for you. Ready to go grab some lunch now?"

Darcy hesitated only a moment before nodding and playing along. "Babe, you have no idea." The two men exchanged the briefest of glances, as if assessing the situation. There was a slight pause and then the men stepped aside just enough to let Clint enter. He gave them an appreciative nod before smoothly manoeuvring through the space until he was sidled up next to Darcy. Wrapping one arm around her waist, Clint pulled her against his side and nuzzled her hair, acting like any average besotted boyfriend. But he was holding Darcy tightly and she could feel the tension in his body. Clint was ready for a fight.

It was a nerve-wracking few seconds until the lift bell chimed as they reached the ground floor. The doors glided open and the two men stepped out in unison. Natasha followed briskly and Clint led Darcy close behind, his arm still curled around her. Slowing down as if to check her watch, Natasha fell in step to mutter something to Clint. He nodded and Natasha covertly handed over the briefcase before disappearing into the crowd.

"Don't worry," Clint murmured against Darcy's ear. "She just told me to stop overacting."

"Your subterfuge skills are totally not what I'm worrying about right now..." Darcy whispered back. Every muscle in her body wanted to turn and look over her shoulder to see if they were being followed.

"They won't make a move here," said Clint. "Since they didn't shoot you in the elevator, they wanted you alive. Now there are too many witnesses for a clean extraction." But he kept Darcy firmly by his side, subtly shielding her body with his until they reached the sidewalk. Even as he extended a hand to hail an approaching cab, his other arm remained locked around her waist until he'd guided her into the car.

"Airport," he commanded after both he and Darcy were safely inside.

"Yes sir," was the military-esque reply before the driver hit the gas.

Darcy looked at Clint with raised eyebrows. "Were any other S.H.I.E.L.D agents just hanging around with transportation in case something went wrong?"

Clint rested his briefcase upon her lap before flicking open the locks. "Seems that with you, there can never be enough security detail," he replied before removing his bow from the case. "And since those guys in the elevator were some high-grade thugs, maybe you should catch me up on what exactly the senator was saying."


	4. Chapter 4

_ Boarding Pass _

  
_Flight MZ973_   
_LGA-ORD_   
_Seat 14C_   
_Lewis/D._

_ Boarding Pass _

  
_Flight KT12_   
_ORD-FAR_   
_Seat 11F_   
_Lewis/D._

* * *

"The decoy is on a flight to North Dakota," Agent Hill announced as she walked into the room. Darcy scrunched her nose and exhaled slowly. It was almost disturbing to think there was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent pretending to be her, let alone that a team of computer experts were creating fake electronic trails to keep any interested party heading towards the Roughrider State. Even crazier was this had been achieved in the ninety minutes since Clint had ushered her into the S.H.I.E.L.D. car. Or was it two hours by now? It was becoming a blur. A more frenzied blur than she'd expected. After arriving at some secret location, Agent Hill had taken her phone. Darcy had been rushed from room to room. Repeating what she heard. Only now, sitting in one of the conference spaces and waiting to give another recount of the events to Director Fury, did she even have time to breathe.

Tony Stark and Steve Rogers had arrived just a short while ago. It did give Darcy a slightly warm and fuzzy feeling to know that even when Thor was rushing to D.C. to ensure his beloved Jane was safe, he'd cared enough to send some hardcore backup to ensure his friend was kept in one piece. But it was also making it awkward to apologise. Darcy turned sidewards in her seat. "Are you still mad?"

Clint sat by her side with Stark and Rogers flanking them. "Mad about what? That you evaded your security detail –again-?" Yeah, he still sounded a little pissed. "Why would I be mad? There's nothing like tracking down my charge in less than three minutes in a crowded public building with thousands of square feet of floor space. Especially when she needs extracting from two potential assailants. Best part of my job."

"I said I was sorry. I _am_ sorry. But it's not like I knew taking a quick breather was going to turn into... this." Darcy gestured around the room.

"Barton, before you put her over your knee for a spanking," Tony interjected lightly. "Since Fury seems to be running late, can the rest of us get a brief update on what exactly happened in D.C.?"

Darcy sighed and repeated the highlights. Clint then took his turn, catching his teammates up with his part of the story while Hill kept silently observing the group. Steve eventually folded his arms over the table and looked towards Darcy. "And you're sure the senator said the word 'Hydra'?" he asked.

"Hydra fell apart after the war," interrupted Hill. "And as far as our intel knows, they haven't existed for sixty years."

Stark gestured towards Darcy. "Based on what Spy Kid here reports, they're making a comeback. And instead of the Nazis, they're partnering with US politicians this time around."

Steve's face tightened. "We have to stop them. Before they infiltrate any further."

Darcy slowly raised her hand before it got even more confusing. "Why is everyone getting worked up about this Hydra group?"

Steve briefly explained the evil organisation to her. What they'd been doing during WW2. By the end, Darcy had a much greater appreciation of how Captain America had been worth so much more than the war bonds he'd help sell.

Fury finally arrived and took a seat beside Hill sitting opposite the other four at the table. Once again, Darcy retold the more comprehensive version of what happened from the rooftop onwards.

"May I see your arm?" Fury asked in an even tone. "Where the senator grabbed you?"

There was a noticeable shift in the men to her left and right. This was why she'd kept skimming through that part of the events. "Just remember; I kicked him hard in the nuts after." She'd been a badass, damn it, not some helpless damsel. Darcy shrugged off her jacket and began rolling up the sleeve of her shirt.

There was barely anything there, just four pale pinks streaks shaped liked fingers. "If it bruises you'll need to get it photographed," Fury said simply. Clint and Steve however looked pissed. Really pissed.

"Seriously guys, chill," Darcy reassured while easing her sleeve back down. "I got worse injuries during lacrosse in eighth grade. Those girls were body-checking savages."

"Tell us more," Stark encouraged. "I love hearing about female full-body-contact sports." His joking broken the tension and the other two Avengers settled down in their seats. Clint's hand however continued flexing, as if itching for his bow.

"Let's move on and see the phone recordings," Fury said firmly. The audio portion played first, followed by the video projected on a large holographic screen for the room to watch.

The footage Darcy had captured showed the senator in bright, clean detail. "And that is why I queue at midnight for a decent phone," she said smugly, leaning back in her chair after the playback ended.

"And we thank you for your cooperation," said Fury. "As long as you are willing to give testimony about what you witnessed and being assaulted by the senator, we should be able to derail the Defence Program Hearing."

Darcy felt herself grinning. "I am willing to testify my ass off." Take that Senator Boynton.

Fury continued. "We'll arrange for you to stand before the committee again on Tuesday."

The elation suddenly began to fall. "But that's the day the hearings finish?" Darcy questioned with a frown.

"Correct," confirmed Hill. "You will need to stay in protective custody until then. It's important you give the evidence in person, so the validity of the recording and Boynton's actions can't be ignored..."

"Hold on," interrupted Darcy, waving her hands in protest. This was not going how she expected. "Why are you waiting almost a whole week? Why not shut the committee down now? Boynton's already dragging the whole thing out on purpose and you're just giving them more time to present twisted evidence that damages the reputation of the Avengers?"

Tony cut off any response that Hill or Fury were about to make. "It's because Hydra has made its way into our government without our most adept spy agency even noticing. However, Miss Lewis, your little adventure has revealed that whatever cunning plan they're up to relies on Senator Boynton's manipulation of the State Armed Services Committee to get it done. Chances are that Hydra will throw more resources out to keep their star senator's image squeaky clean."

Both Steve and Clint were sitting a little straighter and neither seemed happy with where this was leading. Darcy was just getting frustrated that everyone else seemed a couple of steps ahead of her in this discussion.

"Yes, Mr Stark," Fury said with a sigh. "We are hoping the activity Hydra generates while they search for Miss Lewis will help us gather more intel on them."

The penny dropped and Darcy was fairly sure if she had a taser on hand, she'd have electrocuted everyone in the room. "You mean I'm bait, right?"

Fury didn't even look remotely apologetic. "Correct Miss Lewis. We will keep distracting Hydra with decoys but until you present your statement against Senator Boynton, you are ultimately serving as bait."

"You're putting her in danger," argued Steve. "Hydra never cared in the past about who they had to kill or torture to get what they wanted and if they find out where she really is..."

"We'll assign a full security details to her," Hill promised.

"Because S.H.I.E.L.D. has done such an excellent job so far?" Stark gestured towards Darcy. "Didn't you have to play Where's Waldo with her at an Apple store recently?"

"We'll use one of our best agents," stated Fury before glancing around the room. "At least, normally the best. Barton. Think maybe you can avoid losing her this time?"

Clint nodded firmly. "Yes sir." Darcy snuck a sideways peek. She honestly couldn't tell how Clint felt about being stuck with watching her again. This was soldier mode at its finest.

"Good," Fury nodded. "We'll transfer you both to a secure location..."

"I volunteer Avengers tower," interjected Tony. "Free of charge," he added with an overly benevolent smirk. Both Hill and Fury looked set to protest before Stark continued. "Barton already has a room there. And maybe S.H.I.E.L.D. is only worried about losing their new asset. But I'd like to minimise the risk of Thor getting smite-y from something happening to his favourite Facebook friend. So she's staying somewhere the actual superheroes can keep an eye on her."

"Does 'she' even get a say in all this?" Darcy asked, not even bothering to restrain the snark in her voice.

"No," replied several voices from around the room. They were so lucky she was taser-less.

"OK Stark. You keep the witness, we'll keep the video recordings," Fury said while picking up Darcy's phone. "But keep her hidden. We're putting a lot of manpower into keeping up the ruse of her hiding in North Dakota, so if I see even a peep of her in cyberspace, let alone on the streets of New York..."

"You won't sir," Clint stated.

Steve still looked unhappy as he glanced between Clint and Darcy. "I'm flying to Canada with Doctor Banner tomorrow to assist in his gamma research. But we can reschedule if you want backup."

"I've got it covered," replied Clint firmly. "Nothing will happen to her this time."

With a nod, Steve glanced towards Darcy. "You ok with all this."

Darcy sighed. "I can't believe they took my iPhone this time..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thanks goes to purpleann for giving me pointers about Congressional hearings. Any errors in this fic though are still entirely mine.


	5. Chapter 5

_Date: March 09 2013_

_Subject: Fwd: Fwd: Fwd – OMG IT WORKS_

_ >Take your iPod. Press shuffle. Write the first three lines of the first three songs that play. This will tell your future!  
>Forward to eight of your friends and your predicted future will happen in the next week! _

" _Now come one, come all, to this tragic affair..."_

" _We've been here too long..."_

" _Baby, I'm so into you..."_

_Gran, I only did this because I have no job or life and anything else to do until this stupid inquiry is done. But I didn't teach you how to use a computer so you could keep getting hoaxed by chain emails. These forwarded emails don't tell the future. No chance of me finding a "tragic affair" or some hot guy to call baby in the next week._

_Love_

_Darcy_

* * *

**Day One**

As an unemployed-graduate, Darcy hadn't exactly been living the life of luxury up until now. But in the Avengers Tower her new bed was springy, the heating worked flawlessly and the fridge was always stocked with food. The fact that an evil organisation might be hunting for her was admittedly a bit of a dampener. Plus the fact that Senator Jerkface was still out there talking crap about the Avengers and Darcy wasn't allowed to lay the smack down on him yet... that part still sucked. So for escapist distraction, she found a couch and a big screen TV. After flicking through the TiVo she settled for catching up on the latest season of The Walking Dead, since her budget hadn't quite stretched to cable for the past few months.

While she knew Clint was always keeping an eye on her, he was being subtle about it. They hadn't exactly chatted since leaving S.H.I.E.L.D. and Darcy still wasn't sure just how Clint was viewing this extended security detail gig. But when midday rolled around, Clint appeared with a plate of sandwiches and bottles of Coke. He was about to leave Darcy with her lunch but after glimpsing a scene where a zombie was shot with an arrow, Clint joined her on the couch instead.

"You know," Darcy finally said around a mouthful of PB&J. "First time I saw this, I googled how to fire a crossbow so I could improve my chances of surviving the zombie apocalypse."

Clint's response started with a derisive snort. "I think you'd want a quiver with more than three bolts to deal with a horde of zombies. Trust me. Running low on ammunition always happens at the worst time."

"Don't ruin my escapism with logic and fact." Darcy poked his leg with her toes for emphasis. "Just accept that shooting zombies with arrows is kind of awesome."

"Bolts," corrected Clint. Darcy threw a cushion at him. "Fine. Zombies. _Arrows_. Awesome."

As Clint tossed the cushion back at her, Darcy didn't care that she'd won the argument. She was just glad things were ok between them again.

**Day Two**

Turned out escapist TV distraction was only good for about one day. After fidgeting on the couch, unable to focus on whatever was playing on the screen, Darcy tried pleading with Clint, then Tony, that she'd be good and if he just let her use a computer, she wouldn't even log into Facebook. Just CNN. No luck. Apparently with her track record, there was a zero-leeway-for-Darcy-Lewis policy.

So she had to do it the old fashioned way. Darcy gathered up the daily newspapers and spread them out over the kitchen table. But the coverage about the U.A.D.P. hearing was limited and what little there was just made her frustrated. They had moved on to interviewing the victims of the invasion of New York and Senator Boynton was trying to level all the blame on the Avengers for supposedly bringing the battle to Earth.

Darcy then made the mistake of reading an opinion piece by the editor of the Daily Bugle who seemed to share the opinion that superheroes were a menace. The next couple of hours were spent with sheets of paper and a pen while Darcy wrote a long, detailed response. It was bad enough when people were wrong on the internet; in print was so much worse.

Not that it did any good. Clint refused to put Darcy's brilliant 'anonymous' letter in the post.

"It's not going to be like this forever," Clint said as he handed her dinner.

Darcy frowned at him in response "That's sounded like the doctor when they say 'it's only going to be a small pinch' before they stab you with a giant needle." She jabbed at the spaghetti with her fork before taking a mouthful. It wasn't fancy but damn the guy could cook.

Clint raised an eyebrow as he took the seat across from Darcy, his own bowl of pasta in hand. "Look, Darce, I get why you're frustrated. And I appreciate the amount of adjectives you managed to fit in while describing 'the ineptitude of modern journalism' and 'why the Avengers rock'. But your job right now is to stay hidden. That's it."

"I'm in a Stark designed tower. Surrounded by superheroes. Even if the bad guys figure out I'm here because of my letter to the editor, I'm pretty sure I'd be safe anyway."

"'Pretty sure' isn't an option when it comes to keeping you alive." Clint caught Darcy's eye and she realised that he wasn't going to budge on the subject. As she glanced between him and her unsent letter, Darcy felt the urge to fight slowly drain away. Maybe it was just the distracting taste of tomato and Italian spices hitting her tongue. Or maybe she'd just accepted that he wasn't saying this just to piss her off.

Darcy reached for the pieces of paper, crumpled them up and tossed them to one side. "Probably wouldn't have made it past the secretary anyway," she said before picking up her fork again.

**Day Three**

Clint barely even raised an eyebrow when Darcy appeared in his doorway mid-afternoon. She flopped onto his unmade bed, folded her arms under her chin and stared at him while he sat at a workbench, attaching fletching to a range of arrows.

"Still stressed?" Clint finally asked.

"Yes," Darcy grumbled in response before sighing. She'd followed him around all day, from the gym to the kitchen and everywhere in between. He remained implacable, no matter where she turned up or what her attitude was like. And while he'd mostly told Avenger related stories for entertainment, he'd answered some personal questions that Darcy had thrown out there. Explained where he'd learnt his archery skills, even though they didn't seem memories he particularly wanted to relieve.

And then Clint had slowly prodded away at Darcy's bad mood until she admitted she was nervous. Nervous that she'd screw up, that the senator would get away with it somehow. Clint kept sorting his laundry while Darcy had listed all the ways that it could go terribly wrong.

"Darce," Clint had finally interrupted while he threw the last pair of socks on the pile. "I'm not planning on letting Boynton or Hydra win. Are you?"

"No," was Darcy's immediate reply. And then the simple truth of that began to settle her brain. But when Clint had started to look a little smug, she'd reached for a sock and lobbed it at him. "Do you always have to make everything sound so easy?"

Of course, Clint had caught the sock without even looking. Freaking ninja.

Watching him from the bed, their earlier conversation replaying through her head, Darcy figured maybe it was time to give Clint a break. So she rolled over onto her back and started to slide off the mattress.

"Hey." Clint caught Darcy's attention. "Get over here." Darcy detoured and stood over Clint and his workbench, her shoulders slumped.

"It's ok Barton. I'm done harassing you until tomorrow. You get a free night to yourself."

"Noble self-sacrifice noted. Here," Clint picked up one of the arrows and placed it in Darcy's hand. "Better take one of these with you."

Darcy lifted the arrow, squinting at the tip. "In case I feel the need to jab myself with a sharp object?"

"No," Clint leant back on the seat. "But just in case that zombie apocalypse ever happens, tomorrow I'll teach you to shoot it."

The grin threatened to split Darcy's cheeks. "Best. Bodyguard. Ever."

**Day Four**

Learning to shoot was much better with a real bow and arrow in hand, as opposed to watching instructional videos on YouTube. The fact that Stark had built a practise range on the 16th floor didn't even surprise Darcy these days. And Clint was a great teacher; patient and good-humoured. He'd guided her through all the steps and after a few hours of practise, Darcy was pretty confident in her ability to land a headshot on a shambling zombie. Runners – not so much. Unless it was Boynton. Darcy was positive she'd hit that target no matter how fast he was running.

After a hot shower to ease her sore muscles, Darcy wanted to do something to say thanks. "I'll make dinner," she announced when she found Clint in the kitchen. "Where are the Pop-Tarts?"

Clint was already at the stove, easing a lump of beef mince into a pot. "How about we try a team effort instead. Let's see how your knife skills are," he said before shifting a chopping board piled with vegetables on the countertop.

Darcy stared at the mound of onions and bell peppers. "You know that breakfast pastries are a lot easier to prepare, right?"

Clint drew a small kitchen knife from the safety block and held it out towards her. "Get chopping." Letting out a small huff, Darcy repositioned herself on the counter, shoving her damp curls back and getting her leg tucked beneath her before she started dicing the vegetables. "Not bad," Clint commented while looking over his shoulder from where he stood, stirring the simmering mince.

Darcy gave a modest shrug. "Gen Y-ers. We have fine motor skills after years of practice on our cell phones."

"I'm glad we've got something to work with for your hand-to-hand training."

Darcy leant back, examining the tidy pile of neat slices. "You kidding? I think I'm ready for Hell's Kitchen now."

"I don't know if Gordon Ramsay is ready for you Darce," Clint replied. "Bring 'em over." Untucking herself, Darcy slid off the counter and carried the board to the stove. "Nice job. Now can you grab a couple of tins of tomatoes from the cupboard."

"What exactly did your last slave die of?" Darcy snorted as she turned towards the food shelves.

"Sarcasm overload. Top cabinet, second from the right." Darcy followed Clint's instructions and reached up to pop open the door. And that was as far as she got. In bare feet, Darcy barely reached 5'4" and whoever designed this kitchen obviously had tall strapping heroes in mind. Refusing to be beaten by poor interior design, Darcy went on tiptoes; her fingers extended and strained for the bright red cans that sat just out of her reach. "Careful short stuff. I've got it." Clint came up from behind and leant over Darcy, grabbing the tomatoes with ease.

And that was it. That was the moment where it all went wrong. One otherwise innocent second. As Clint reached around Darcy, his arm grazed over hers and his chest nudged against her back. Suddenly it was as if she'd taken an electric shock to the brain. Every nerve became hyper aware of every inch of hard muscle that brushed against her skin. Of the warmth that radiated from his body, angled just behind her own. She heard the faint sound of his breath and the scent that was just him began to overwhelm her. All she could sense and register and comprehend for that moment was Clint. All her brain wanted was for him to move a fraction closer and firmly close that gap between their bodies.

"Darce, you ok?" Clint took a slight step backwards and Darcy felt his hands turning her around to face him. His brow was furrowed in concern and she realised she'd become frozen and speechless. Her mouth parted, looking for words. But she was distracted by the way the light brought out the red tones to his hair. And how his dark blue sweater moulded to the lines of his shoulders. Despite the rumours, she hadn't actually been thrown over those shoulders when she sneaked out to the Apple store. He hadn't even been angry. Clint had simply found her in the queue, taken her money and returned a few minutes later with a receipt in his pocket and the new iPhone tucked under his jacket. She hadn't been forced to wait until midnight, thanks to Clint's ninja skills.

And here he was now. His fingers still gently grasping her shoulders as if ready to keep her upright if she should stumble. It could be some crazy super-hero-worship complex... but with Clint nearby, she felt safer. Braver. Calmer and brighter at the same time. And right then, being so close to him made her heart pulse and her chest tighten and before any sensible part of her could object, Darcy pushed up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his.

Clint's mouth was warm and dry and the taste of him sent tingles down Darcy's spine. And then her brain kicked in. She was kissing him. And he wasn't responding. She jerked back. This was about to become so incredibly awkward. As much as her mind was flicking through the past few days, he'd given no sign. No glance at her chest. No flirty touch. Nothing beyond being a nice and friendly bodyguard. So she'd just laid one on Hawkeye like a crazy fangirl. This was beyond awkward. It was humiliating. Darcy couldn't even look at him. "Clint... I'm..."

Then his broad hands were cupping her cheeks and Clint grazed a thumb lightly across her lips, cutting off the apologetic words. With gentle pressure, he brought her chin up until Darcy was forced to look him in the eye. Beneath his usual calm facade, there was a tension to Clint's blue eyes as he studied her and Darcy had no idea what he was thinking.

In the stillness between them, Darcy's cheeks tingled beneath his touch. Just as she thought Clint was about to step away, his hands suddenly moved; fingers were grazing down her neck and sides before curling around Darcy's waist. Clint stepped forward, his grip tight and his hard body pushing Darcy back and pinning her hips against the counter. All the breath left her body in a rush and Darcy felt her head spin.

"I'm here to protect you. We can't do this," Clint said in a low voice that matched the impassive expression locked upon his face. But his fingers flexed into her skin and the shift of his body against hers didn't match what his mouth was saying.

And maybe his words were sensible. But Darcy couldn't process them. Not when she felt his hands graze beneath her shirt and caress the small of her back. "Then you're fired," Darcy barely managed to whisper. "If you're going to stop because you're my bodyguard, you are totally fired."

Clint didn't stop. His mouth caught hers and this time there definitely was a kiss; hard and insistent, grazing and tugging and pushing. Darcy felt herself being lifted onto the countertop and her legs snaked around his waist. A soft moan echoed between their lips as their bodies connected again; hip on hip, chest to chest, arms wrapped around neck and waist. It was frantic and fast and Darcy could barely catch a breath before Clint pulled her back into the kiss.

A loud beeping started vibrating through the kitchen. Darcy ignored it and Clint didn't respond either. But when the scent of burning meat drifted over, Clint broke away from Darcy with a curse. As he made it to the stove and shoved the pot to one side, Darcy slid off the counter, dragged a chair beneath the alarm and scrambled up to fan the fumes away with her hands.

The beeping finally came to a halt and Darcy climbed down. "That was..." she stopped midsentence as she turned around. The kitchen was deserted. Clint was gone.

Never a good sign when a guy kissed and ran.

* * *

Sitting alone at the kitchen table, Darcy hugged a knee to her chest. She'd found the pop-tarts and cooked them in the toaster but the two pastries she'd prepared for Clint still sat on the plate, rapidly getting cold. She was just about to give up when Clint finally appeared in the kitchen doorway. He'd changed into a T-shirt and a towel was wrapped around his neck. Like he'd been running or taking a cold shower. Or both.

Before Darcy could even open her mouth, Clint cut her off. "That can't happen again."

"You burnt dinner. It happens." She shrugged flippantly.

"Darcy." Not Darce. Full name. Ouch. Clint exhaled slowly. "It's my fault. You're new to this."

Slumping back in her chair, Darcy restrained the urge to roll her eyes. "New to what?"

Clint moved to take the seat beside her. He leant forward but clearly was keeping a safe distance between them. "This life. Being in danger. Learning to fight. It's easy for the adrenaline spikes it causes to be confused with attraction. Happens all the times on missions unless you're careful."

"We were making dinner. I wasn't exactly in fight-or-flight mode. That..." Darcy waved her hand towards the kitchen counters, "was _not_ just adrenaline."

Silence hung in the air. "Like I said. My fault for letting it happen," Clint finally stated. And for the first time ever, his words were cold. "You're my job Darcy. Don't get confused about what that means."

Darcy didn't even respond. She just calmly pushed herself up from the table, slowly walked to her room and steadily sat on the edge of her bed. In perspective, what did it matter? She was bait for an evil organisation. The bad guys probably wanted to kill her. Getting told she was just a job shouldn't even rate on her list of problems. But it did. For the first time that week, all Darcy wanted to do was crawl under the covers and hide.

So she did.


	6. Chapter 6

_Interpersonal Policy_ _:_ _S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are strongly discouraged from fraternizing or becoming romantically involved with one another or with any other associate of the agency. While on assignment, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are forbidden from fraternizing or becoming romantically involved with any individual or group relating to the assignment. This includes, but is not limited to; handlers, informants, targets, subjects..._

* * *

"So. Tomorrow. What do I have to do?"

There were a lot of things Darcy would have enjoyed doing at that point in time. Attending a security briefing with Clint and Natasha was not one of them. But come tomorrow morning, she would be leaving the tower, travelling to D.C. and appearing before the State Armed Services Committee once more. Being in the same room with Clint was hard but Strike Team Delta was still her security detail and this meeting was about keeping her alive. Not exactly an appointment she could skip out on.

The briefing was intense. Her entire journey from door to door was carefully plotted out. They would fly below the radar. Avoid attention and slip Darcy into D.C. before the bad guys could spot her. Assuming it all went to plan, at least. Clint listed off the potentially dangerous parts of the route and what the contingency plans were to keep her safe between each checkpoint. There were maps and diagrams. Timetables. Even expected response times from Iron Man and Captain America if it all went to hell.

Darcy tried to just focus on the details. It wasn't easy, since every single word Clint said made last night rush back and kick her in the gut. But she had to push those thoughts aside and forget about the Clint who she had feelings for. She was dealing with Agent Barton; the detached and deadly S.H.I.E.L.D. agent assigned to protect her.

"Any questions?" Natasha asked after Clint finished the presentation.

 _Do you know your partner is a jackass?_ "Nope. I understand perfectly," Darcy replied. And she had. She'd paid close attention to everything. She wanted to live through this. But the more she had to be around Agent Barton instead of Clint, the angrier she got. So her next comment came out a lot harsher than she intended. "All I have to do is follow you guys, keep my mouth shut and do what I'm told. Easy"

"This is serious," Clint said in a tight voice. "Pull another one of your rebellious stunts like running off tomorrow and you could end up dead."

If only she could run away. "Don't worry. I won't make your _job_ any harder than it already is."

"This isn't about the _job_ Darcy."

Darcy had to clench her teeth to restrain herself from yelling. Or crying. Or both. "Then what is it about, _Agent Barton_?"

For a split second, emotion registered on Clint's features. Hurt? Frustration? It went so quickly, Darcy wasn't even sure if she'd actually seen anything. And then he was pulling out a folder from the briefing pile and dumping photos in front of her. Pictures of walls riddled with bullet holes. A burnt out shell of a car. "There were attacks on the decoy S.H.I.E.L.D. sent out to distract Hydra. Four attacks over four days. Attacks that were meant to kill you."

It suddenly felt like the air had been sucked from Darcy's lungs. Hydra really meant business. She'd known that already; at least, theoretically. But seeing evidence of just how determined they were to stop her appearing before the Senate committee... it made her skin tingle with the imagined hit of each shot that had been intended for her. It was like New Mexico again. She hadn't known if she would survive the Destroyer. And right then, she wasn't sure if she would survive tomorrow.

Then her gaze was torn away from the photos. It took a moment to realise Clint had swung her chair around so she couldn't stare at the evidence of her impending death sentence. He crouched before her, hands still gripping the armrests and waited. Waited until Darcy would look him in the eyes. "I will put an arrow into anyone who tries to get within ten feet of you Darce. I will keep you safe. Got it?" It was more than the kind of dry wit observation that was typical Clint. More than even a promise. It was a statement. This was Hawkeye-the-Avenger speaking.

"I got it," she finally replied. Clint was still an ass but he was a superhero-ass about to risk his life for her. Darcy could put her anger on hold until on Wednesday.

There was a subtle cough from across the room. Natasha leant back in the seat as she surveyed the pair. "So... is there anything I should know about?" she asked evenly.

A muscle twitching in his jaw was the only indicator Clint had heard Natasha's question, until he pushed himself upright and took a step back. "No, Agent Romanoff."

Darcy felt the weight of Natasha's gaze settle on her. The agent didn't repeat her question but just raised an eyebrow expectantly. "No," Darcy muttered.

"Then Lewis should get some rest. Tomorrow is a going to be a tough day, whatever happens," Natasha said smoothly. "Barton and I will review the plans tonight to ensure nothing has been compromised. We'll see you in the morning." It was a clear dismissal and Darcy seized the opportunity to hightail it out of there. As diplomatic as Agent Romanoff's tone had been, Darcy had the sneaking feeling that Clint was going to have to answer more than a few questions about their not-quite-shouting match. And sitting through an interrogation by one of Russia's greatest assassins was not how Darcy wanted to spend what might be her last night on earth.

* * *

Darcy did try following Natasha's suggestion of resting but after tossing and turning for hours, sleep continued to elude her. So still in her pyjamas, she'd migrated from her room to the kitchen to the couch; it was when she was heading towards the training rooms that Darcy had realised what she was doing. They were all places she associated with Clint. She'd had to resist the urge to slap herself. This night was not going to be about mourning everything that happened after that kiss. Or didn't. Or those words that would sting if she let them. _You're my job_.

So Darcy found the best spot in the tower to forget about Barton. Apparently Stark had bitched and moaned when his penthouse salon got hijacked by the team. But Darcy understood why the Avengers liked celebrating here. Besides the bar and the scenery, there were other nice touches; a Persian rug on the spot where the Hulk had smashed Loki into the concrete slabs, for example. Darcy had done her own little happy dance on that rug during the guided tour of the tower, much to Stark's amusement.

Right then however, she had the dimly-lit floor to herself. And as Darcy settled back into a comfortable lounge chair, she had to acknowledge that the view from Stark tower was pretty damn amazing. Seriously – there was the Empire State building right in front of her. It was an impressive scene in the daytime but as midnight had just ticked over, the windows were now filled with an inky black sky broken by peaks of scattered lights from the surrounding skyscrapers. A girl could get used to a view like this... at least, if it didn't come with the price tag of being hunted by evil organisations.

With her mind wandering elsewhere, Darcy didn't notice the footsteps behind her. Not until she felt a blanket being gently deposited onto her lap. "In case you were getting cold," Clint said quietly.

Darcy reminded herself that keeping the assignment warm was probably just part of the job. But it was the middle of the night, the world was sleeping around them and she didn't want to fight. So Darcy wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and murmured a soft thank you.

Clint stayed in her peripheral vision, just behind her shoulder. Just outside of her personal space. He seemed to be staring out at the night sky along with her. "You know you don't have to do this, right?" he finally said.

Whatever awkward conversation opener Darcy had been half expecting, that wasn't it. "Don't have to do what, exactly?" she asked hesitantly.

"Go to D.C. Risk your life." He said it so casually. Like she was planning a trip to the mall. "Whatever plans Hydra have, we can find another way to stop them. We don't have to take down Boynton and the committee first. You can remain here until we've eliminated the threat."

Her body moving of its own accord, Darcy found she'd swivelled in her chair and angled her head to scrutinise him. "Are you serious?" she hesitated in disbelief. "Like, seriously suggesting I hide in Stark Tower and ignore everything until it goes away?"

Clint's hands were folded behind his back, though his shoulders tensed when he finally made eye contact. "This isn't your fight Darcy," he replied simply.

"Neither was the sibling rivalry drama that landed in New Mexico," she countered. "But you don't leave your friends to fend for themselves. You help them."

"Even if it puts you in danger?"

Darcy didn't even have to consider her reply. "Yes," she said firmly. "Because that's probably when they need you the most."

Raking a hand through his hair, Clint exhaled in frustration. It was the most human gesture Darcy had seen from him in awhile. "Darce... I know I was an ass the other night. But promise me you'll follow the plan and listen to me tomorrow. Don't try to be the hero. If I say hide, you hide. If I say run, you run."

One hand still gripping the blanket around her shoulders, Darcy slowly uncurled herself from the chair. "Don't worry," she said lightly as she stood. "I won't do anything that'll get you into trouble."

Clint closed the gap between them, stopping Darcy mid-step. "It's not me I'm worried about. But if anything happens to you tomorrow..."

It should have the moment when they kissed. Everything was right. Everything felt right. With a blinking New York skyline behind them, Clint should have cupped her neck, pulled her in close and chased away the lingering fears with the touch of his calloused fingers and his lips upon her mouth.

 _You're my job_.

Forcing a smile to break the tension, Darcy shrugged as if it was no big deal. "Hey, don't stress. Hawkeye promised he'd keep me alive." She could do this. Light. Casual. Throw in the friendly teasing from before. "And even if he's kind of a jerk, I hear the guy is pretty good with a bow."

Clint paused before some of the tightness visibly eased from his shoulders. "The bastard better be. Otherwise I'll have to kick his ass."

Darcy managed to keep the smile going as they said goodnight. And while she walked alone to her room, she pushed her feelings down into a tiny little ball and locked them away. There was a senator waiting to be taken down and evil plans that needed to be disrupted. No more distractions. She occupied her mind with those thoughts until sleep finally overtook her.

It was only when morning came that she realised she'd climbed into bed with Clint's blanket still wrapped tight around her.


	7. Chapter 7

_Sunday 17 Mar 19:22_  
 _Secure Transfer f/ Black Widow att: Hawkeye_  
 _Field update: On route to base. Attached data w/debrief of last four days in ND. Multiple attempts. No casualties. Threat level increase to 4 red._

* * *

Thrumming with nervous energy, Darcy bounced on the balls of her feet and shoved her hands deeper into her pockets. She was bundled up beneath layers of concealing hats and scarves and winter coats, but a chill had still seeped in to her bones. It was Tuesday morning and time for her to leave the tower to take down a senator. No more concrete and glass and security systems to keep her safe. Just her, two bodyguards and a bulletproof vest. No problem.

"Nervous?" asked Natasha while they waited for the elevator. Clint was already downstairs, preparing the car for the trip to the airport.

"Terrified," was Darcy's instant reply. "I mean..."

"Anyone in your situation should be scared." There was a complete lack of judgement to Natasha's statement. "Though I doubt Barton dumping the decoy mission photos in your lap helped."

Darcy shrugged briefly, even though the image of a wall riddled with bullet holes was still burned into her retinas. "He was just worried I wasn't taking it seriously. I have that effect on people sometimes."

The elevator bell chimed and the doors slid open. "So there won't be any problems between you two today?" Natasha queried as they stepped inside. The woman wasn't trying to be subtle with her loaded question and Darcy had to wonder just what exactly Clint had told his partner.

"No Agent Romanoff. No problems," she replied.

* * *

It was a nerve-wracking drive to the airport. Even though they travelled in the best armoured car that Stark industries could provide, Darcy spent the entire trip waiting for a hail of explosions to fall from the sky. Every time they stopped at traffic lights to let hordes of pedestrians cross, Darcy worried those blissfully ignorant people were about to be caught in the crossfire. She wanted to lean out the windows, wave her arms and shout for them to step back, just in case.

The journey seemed to take forever until they reached the small private-use airport. They drove straight into the hanger where a small jet waited to depart. It was only a few short feet from the car door to the plane's boarding stairs but each step Darcy took felt like she was moving in slow motion. She almost winced while waiting to feel a bullet hit her. Or maybe even worse, one of the agents shielding her.

By the time she settled into one of the plush executive seats, Darcy had begun to doubt she could do this. So many people were being put in danger. So much could happen. Her nerves were on edge and she wasn't sure she could think straight.

"You're doing great Darce." Clint's voice interrupted Darcy's bleak musings. She hadn't even noticed him slide into the opposite chair. Natasha brushed past them both and disappeared into the cockpit. Only then did Darcy realise they were completely alone on the plane. No air stewards bustling around the luxurious interior. No other pilot to accompany Natasha, who she could hear communicating with the traffic control tower.

"Clint..." Darcy started in an even voice while she watched one of the airport crew wheel the staircase away from the plane. "What's the chance of no one getting hurt today?"

Still staring out the window, Darcy's side vision registered that Clint had shifted in his seat. He'd leant forward, elbows resting on knees. "Good if all goes to plan." He sounded so damn nonchalant about the whole thing.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, she brooded while Natasha took them into the air. Everyone else was acting cool and collected and last thing Darcy wanted was to be was the jittery damsel who needed her hand held each step of the way. They might not be ready to pop open the celebratory champagne but they'd made it this far, right? Darcy forced herself to shake off the pending sense of disaster and focus on what needed doing. She tore her eyes away from the window and turned to face Clint, still sitting casually across from her. "So from memory, this is where we go into phase two, right."

Clint simply nodded and pulled a duffel bag from under his seat. "You get to suit up first. Hope you don't mind the hair colour." Darcy was sure there was a hint of a smirk on his face when she took the bag and headed to the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, Darcy gave one last tug on the wig to make sure it was in place before she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to identify with the stranger looking back. Reflection-Darcy was a chic blonde decked out in a snug-fitting charcoal business suit that she suspected cost more than her rent for the next month. There was also much more makeup than normal-Darcy was used to. But at least that emo phase in high school had finally paid off with her deft eyeliner application skills. She'd even managed to avoid stabbing her contact lenses with the mascara wand. So if Darcy could barely recognise herself, maybe any Hydra assassins would overlook her. The tension between her shoulder blades eased just a little bit.

"Don't laugh," Darcy warned as she stepped back into the cabin and headed towards her seat. "And just so you know, I don't think Armani designed his suits with body armour in mind. It was a tight fit over the vest."

Clint drew back into his seat, slowly folding his arms across his chest. His face wasn't exactly giving anything away, but as Darcy sat down it seemed like Clint was almost having trouble swallowing. "You look... good," he finally said. And that was enough to send a slight pang through Darcy's chest.

Before either of them could say anything further, Natasha interrupted in a raised voice. "Barton, come take the wheel so I can change. We'll need to start our descent soon."

As Clint vacated his seat for the cockpit, Darcy was aware that Natasha hadn't been accidental in her timing of the request. But what she didn't expect was the almost sympathetic squeeze that Black Widow placed on her shoulder while passing by.

* * *

The compact limousine that had been parked in the aircraft hangar at Dulles International wasn't exactly a surprise. Seeing Tony Stark lean against the vehicle, a set of keys dangling from his fingers, was however definitely unexpected.

"Miss Lewis," Stark greeted, placing a hand to his chest. "Be still my metal plated heart. Tell me why exactly you hide behind jeans and sweaters on a regular basis?"

There were worse things in the world than getting a veiled compliment from Tony Stark. "If a girl is going to get assassinated," Darcy replied with a nonchalant shrug. "She might as well look her best." Especially when she had to stand next to Natasha who, of course, looked flawless even in her disguise of a tailored chauffeur outfit.

"No one is getting assassinated today," said Clint firmly while he adjusted the sleeves on his corporate style jacket. "Only thing about to die is Boynton's political career."

With a brief check of her watch, Natasha nodded towards the limo. "Assuming that's our ride?"

Tony tossed the keys towards her in response. "I'll be taking the ST-1 and leading any Hydra folks hanging around on a merry adventure. Call me if there's trouble."

After Stark had driven off in his sports car and the weapon stash had been transferred from the plane, Darcy took the spacious back seat alongside Clint. Inside the car, Darcy knew she was close to invisible from the exterior. The windows were heavily tinted and a reinforced privacy partition further concealed the passengers. Only a small retractable panel in the partition allowed contact with Natasha, who was acting as driver on this part of the journey.

"Ready to go?" Clint asked Darcy as the engine turned over.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

About ten minutes into the drive, Natasha slid the small privacy panel down. Next to Darcy, Clint immediately tensed up. "Trouble?" he asked. Through the small gap, they could see the brake lights of the car in front turn a solid red.

"Possibly," Natasha replied before she muttered something in Russian.

"Accident?"

"Can't tell with the bend in the road ahead," Natasha's voice was clipped as they ground to a halt. "But based on the number of stopped cars, I think it's a checkpoint."

Darcy did not feel reassured when Clint immediately unholstered his gun. "This road is supposed to be clear."

"Police might've missed the memo," Natasha made eye contact through the rear-view mirror. "Drive or run?"

The car fell silent as Natasha and Clint stared at each other. Eventually, Clint frowned and gave a brief nod. Natasha disappeared from view as she wound the panel closed again.

"So..." Darcy began hesitantly. "Do I need to put on my running shoes or something?"

Clint shook his head. "We'll drive. Too exposed to run. Just hit the floor if anything goes wrong and follow my lead if we're searched." Darcy did notice that he hadn't put his weapon away.

The car began to roll forward at an agonisingly slow pace. When it finally stopped again, there was the faintest hum of a window opening.

"What's going on officer?" Natasha's voice came through some speakers embedded behind Darcy's head. The noise startled her but she kept still. Clint just waited.

"AMBER alter ma'am." The voice that followed was male. That polite but firm tone Darcy long associated with law enforcement officials. "We're searching all cars for a missing four year old."

"That's terrible," Natasha sounded horrified. "I haven't heard the alert on the radio yet, when were they taken?"

"Very recently ma'am. Would you mind opening the trunk and rear doors for us to search?"

There was a click from the back of the car as the trunk popped open. "Sir?" Natasha raised her voice, as if calling through the privacy screen. "I'm sorry to interrupt but..."

"Don't hate me," Clint muttered. Darcy's attention was so focused on the conversation up front, she barely heard him. But then she felt Clint's hands curl under her thighs and she was spun to be flat on her back across the seat. And before she could question the timing, Clint was stretched out above her. Their bodies however barely touched; Clint had his weight on his arms and his gun in one hand, concealing the weapon behind them. It might look erotic but he'd just become an extra layer of body armour.

"...the police need to search the car." As Natasha's voice trailed off, Clint pressed his cheek against Darcy's and he kissed over her neck. And for a moment, Darcy couldn't tell if she wanted to freak out or rip his clothes off. But as the handle of the door clicked and light spilled in over the seats, Clint's fingers ran through the wig and subtly fanned the blonde strands around her cheeks. _It's my face_ Darcy realised. _He's hiding my face._

"Excuse me sir...?" Darcy could barely see a thing with Clint's body over hers and his head blocking her view. But the policeman coughed and with a loud, resigned sigh, Clint shifted just enough to glance over his shoulder.

"Yes officer?" Clint asked, putting a lot of boredom and just the hint of annoyance into each word.

"AMBER alert sir. We need to check your vehicle." The officer didn't sound particularly apologetic.

"Go ahead. Everyone here is clearly over eighteen." _Follow my lead_ echoed in Darcy's head _._ It came out a little squeaky, but she managed a girlish giggle. Clint turned his head away from the policeman and laid another kiss upon her temple. "Nicely done," he barely whispered.

There was a shift in the light as the officer stepped away from the door but eventually a thump from behind signalled the trunk had been shut. "Have a nice day," came the officer's voice as he closed the car door on them.

Darcy's heart continued to thump loudly in her chest until the engine turned over once more. Clint eased himself off her, though was at least gentlemanly enough to offer a hand to help Darcy get upright.

The screen whirled down and there was Natasha, twisted in her seat and staring at them with a level glare. "Seriously. Both of you. Stop. Overacting."

Darcy could only hope she wasn't blushing. Clint looked completely unrepentant. Natasha finally just shook her head and turned her attention back to the road as she put the car into gear.

"Didn't have much visibility from back here. How many were there?" Clint asked after they'd pulled away.

"Three. Obviously hired for brawn and not brain." Natasha sounded somewhat casual about the whole thing. The answer however made Darcy pause in the middle of straightening her clothes.

"Hold on. Was that actually a trap?" she asked, somehow keeping her voice steady.

With a nod, Clint moved across the car and hunched down to stare out the tinted windows. "The uniforms weren't right and the firearms were non-standard issue."

"They're probably trying to canvass all the roads in and out," continued Natasha. "But that checkpoint was pretty amateur. I think they're spreading their resources thin."

"Or they're just trying to lull us into a false sense of security," Clint countered. "We should change to a backup route."

Natasha's eye roll was clearly visible in the rear view mirror. "Don't get paranoid. Keep an eye on the surroundings and leave the driving to me."

"Tash..." Clint's argument was cut off by the privacy window scrolling back up. "Damn it Nat."

" _Emotionally compromised Agents don't make the final call, Barton_ ," echoed Natasha's voice through the intercom.

Darcy finally decided to interrupt. "It's not exactly reassuring to have my bodyguards fighting."

"Disagreeing. We don't fight." Even though his tone was joking, there was a frown on Clint's forehead and he looked pissed. "It's too hazardous for assassins to get into fights."

"Could you both just stop disagreeing then?" Darcy flailed her hands around in annoyance. "Agent Romanoff knows what she's doing and if we do get ambushed then I guess we'll just have to beat the bad guys up. And I saw where Barton stored the bow. I'll shoot them myself if I have to."

The intercom remained silent and Clint finally pulled back from the window to retake his seat beside Darcy. "You only had one archery lesson," he said while nudging her leg with his own. "Don't get cocky." Darcy simply crossed her arms and smiled as the tension ebbed away and quiet settled over the car once more.


	8. Chapter 8

_Traffic Ticket_

_To be completed by Police Officer ~~ _and given to Motorist_~~_

_Last Name: Stark  
First Name: Anthony_

_Traffic Offences_

_Failure to wear seatbelt_   
_Improper Passing_   
_Improper Driving_   
_Failure to Stop..._

* * *

When they pulled up in front of the government building, a sense of relief rushed over Darcy. No sudden explosions had occurred. No one had been injured. They'd survived the journey and now there was less than half an hour until she was due to stand before the committee.

As Clint escorted her out of the car, Darcy could see Natasha emerging from the other side to hand over the keys and chauffer hat to a waiting S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. That was a good sign. The reconnaissance of the building must have been positive. If the agent had been waiting in a blue baseball cap, they would have high tailed it out of there. And now they were forced to be in public, even if Darcy couldn't pick them out of the crowd she knew there would be other agents watching all the entrances and exits.

Though as they climbed the steps to the building, Darcy did wonder just how Natasha had managed to swap her black driving uniform for a business suit in the car without causing a traffic accident.

They breezed through the security checks, despite the various bits of weaponry that Clint and Natasha still had hidden upon their persons. But while the fear of imminent death was rapidly receding, Darcy began to feel the weight of her pending showdown with Senator Boynton. No S.H.I.E.L.D. agents or superheroes would be able to bail her out if she faltered in her testimony.

With a light touch on her elbow, Natasha turned Darcy away from the main waiting area. "Let's get you tidied up so the committee can at least vaguely recognise you." It took a few tries until they located a secluded and empty bathroom that Natasha didn't reject after doing a quick sweep. "And you get an escort this time. Just so we don't have any further adventures on the rooftop," Natasha said, holding the door open. "Barton, keep watch."

Darcy simply threw up her hands in the universal gesture for surrender. Obviously going to be a long time before she would be trusted to pee on her own.

Clint however didn't seem thrilled by the arrangement. "Any options where you can actually stay in my line of sight?" he asked. Darcy thought he might have been trying for a deferential tone. It however came out much more on the side of blatant sarcasm.

"It's the bathroom Barton," Natasha responded dryly. "I can manage to keep an asset safe for two minutes. And if you don't like it, don't mess up the asset's makeup in the back seat of the car."

Darcy just tried to avoid making eye contact with either of them as she darted through. But it almost sounded like Natasha huffed as the door swung closed behind them. "Sure nothing is up with you two?" Darcy asked carefully while she leant over the sink, wrinkling her nose as she assessed her reflection.

"No," Natasha replied while she double-checked the stalls. "Barton just doesn't like my decisions. You've got ninety seconds to tidy yourself up."

The wig was off in a heartbeat and Darcy started to unpin her tightly secured locks of hair. It felt like poking a tiger but she didn't want to let this issue slide again. "I thought you were a team. You know, super-in-sync, working together kind of thing."

"We are a team." In the reflection of the mirror, Darcy could see signs of contemplation on the agent's face. A slight narrowing of the eyes. Pursing of the lips. As if Natasha was debating what to say next. "But there are protocols. And if an agent becomes partially compromised in the field, their teammate assumes authority over the mission. It shifts the team dynamics a little."

"But how can you say Clint is 'compromised'," Darcy stopped untangling her hair just long enough to make the quotation marks with her fingers. "I mean, seriously. The guy is pretty focused on his work." She even managed to not sound bitter about that.

"His judgement is compromised. When it comes to you, at least."

Darcy didn't bother trying to restrain her snort. "Uh, no? I'm just his job. He and I got that straight."

Natasha just gave a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders. "That's for you and Barton to sort out. Right now you just need to understand where Barton and _I_ stand so you stop getting involved. Thirty seconds left."

By the time Darcy emerged from the bathroom, physically she felt back to normal with a mess of brown curls and the eyeliner smoothed down to a minimum. But her mind had exploded into a rush of confusion and questions and a whole bunch of wondering just how her life had turned into this.

The three returned to a quiet side corridor near the room where Darcy was due to give her statement. It was a wide stretch of space selected to give maximum visibility. "Fifteen minutes left. I'll take watch," said Natasha. "Barton, you shield." Natasha moved to one side of the hallway, taking a spot that allowed her to monitor the few people that passed by. Clint touched Darcy on the elbow and guided her to stand with her back against the opposite wall. He stepped around to be facing her and leaned in just enough to leave a few inches between their bodies. It was a protective stance designed to resemble two people having an intimate conversation. Darcy understood it was only for show and utility. This situation had all been part of the mission brief. But being this close after what Natasha had disclosed made her itch to unravel what was really going on.

Rationally, Darcy knew she should leave the situation alone. She told herself this was emotional crap that could wait. She should focus on what she was about to present to the committee. Get her priorities straight. She had a corrupt senator to expose. Evil Hydra plots to derail.

"So what exactly does 'emotionally compromised' mean?" The words were out of her mouth before Darcy knew it. Screw it. They had time to kill.

The look Clint gave spoke volumes about this being a subject he wanted to avoid. "Don't worry about it," he said firmly. "You're still safe."

Taking a deep breath before crossing her arms beneath her chest, Darcy gave a defiant jut of her chin. "That's not why I'm asking. And don't blow me off. Real explanations and no evasive spy crap."

This close, she could see the muscles tighten in his jaw. "It means there are reasons why I can't be fully objective in this mission. I have to let another agent take the lead."

Darcy tried not to lose her composure even if Clint was skirting around the subject. "What reasons? Because of the kiss?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"One moment of lust and you get the training wheels slapped on?" Darcy snarked, adding a raised eyebrow for good measure.

"No. But it showed I was too invested. I'd put my feelings for you ahead of the mission."

"Invested? Feelings?" Darcy didn't mean for her voice to rise. But hearing him say that was like a giant slap in the face. "I thought this was just a job. That _I_ was just a job."

Clint braced his forearm against the wall, right above Darcy's right shoulder as he inclined his head close enough that if Darcy moved just a fraction of an inch her lips would brush against his. It would have been intimate if not for the pained tightness she could see in his eyes. Clint dropped his voice so low that he could barely be heard. "You think it was easy for me to say that? To see how you looked at me afterwards. It was bad enough I was fucking up the mission when it came to your safety but if I hadn't stopped what else was happening... it would have been taking advantage of you. Of what the situation was making you feel. Because no matter how passionate everything seems in the moment... every time, _every single time_ , when the job is over and the excitement is gone, it ends."

Darcy crossed her arms tighter, keeping them as a buffer in the small gap that still separated them. Right now she wasn't sure if she now wanted to punch him or kiss him until the frustration in his expression went away. "For your information, I managed to navigate alien invasions without dropping my panties at every freaking hero that walked by. So I'm pretty sure I was into _you_. Just Clint. Sarcastic, emotionally dumb but kind of amazing Clint. So could you maybe stop worrying about the stupid mission for just one second..."

There was the slightest click followed by a whoosh of displaced air and Darcy's vent was cut off by the pain suddenly bursting through her body.

She was pretty sure someone had just shot her.


	9. Chapter 9

_NY Ledger – March 19_ _th_ _2013_

_Washington DC –the United Authorised Defence Program Hearing is due to conclude today._

* * *

The bullets were coming from one side. There were no warnings or the usual blasts of noise; just a soft click followed by a whoosh of displaced air. The first shot felt like someone had slapped Darcy in the thigh with a hot poker. The second closely resembled being thumped in the ribs with a solid steel baseball bat. In an instant the air had been knocked from Darcy's chest and the pain was blinding. Her vision threatened to turn black and the sheer impact would have knocked her off her feet if Clint hadn't grabbed her by the waist. Between heartbeats, before the next click and rush of air from the silenced gun, Darcy felt his arms lock tight around her. Clint pulled her close and kept his body wedged between her and the shooter as he spun Darcy out of the line of fire. The next bullet lodged into the wall just inches from their heads.

There came a thud of two bodies colliding and hitting the floor hard. The sounds of a brief exchange of punches. Then the clatter of metal skidding across the floor. "It's clear," yelled Natasha, her voice strained. "Move."

It had all happened in a matter of milliseconds. Darcy was still reeling but some part of her brain registered that she must follow Natasha's command. Even if she wasn't entirely sure her legs were working as yet. "I got you Darce," Clint murmured as he rapidly guided her hands around his neck. In one smooth motion, Clint's arms cradled Darcy's back and thighs as he lifted her from the ground. The sounds of a struggle still rang out as Natasha called on her comms device for backup. Before Darcy could even try to glance in that direction, Clint had carried her away from the scene.

"'Tash... ok...?" Darcy's mouth felt dry and she struggled to make her tongue work. When Clint suddenly came to a stop, she thought they were going to turn back to check on his partner. But instead, Darcy felt the constriction of his muscles bunching as he hoisted her closer to his chest and began to feel around her thigh with his fingertips. As he cursed, Darcy dimly realised the fabric of her pants was clinging damply to her skin.

"You're bleeding. We need to get you to a hospital."

That shook some of the haze from Darcy's head. Despite the pain the movement caused, she squirmed in Clint's arms and gripped his collar with her fingertips. "Owww. NO. No. We can't leave."

Clint just stared down at her incredulously. "What part of 'you're bleeding' did you miss?"

"S'posed to be in front of the committee. Ten minutes," Darcy groaned as she forced the words out. "Just... patch me up or something."

"Fuck no," Clint replied immediately. The slight widening of his eyes suggested he couldn't believe they were even having this conversation. "Hospital. Now."

" _Clint. Please_ ," Darcy begged in desperation.

Their eyes locked and for a moment Darcy couldn't begin to guess what was running through Clint's mind. With his jaw tightly clenched, Clint didn't say anything as he walked them over to the nearest door. It was a relief when the handle to "Waiting Room #7" clicked open because from the look on his face, Darcy was fairly sure Clint would have kicked the door down if he'd had to.

Still, Clint was gentle as he lowered Darcy to sit upon one of the padded chairs. As she carefully adjusted herself, Clint activated his earpiece. "Anyone not on containment. I need a medical kit now. That included you Stark, if you're listening." With another tap, Clint's deactivated the device and crouched beside the seat. "Those pants need to come off so I can check the wound."

"Great," Darcy grumbled through gritted teeth. " _Now_ you want to get me out of my clothes."

With a shake of his head, Clint tugged off her shoes before he reached for the buttons on the waistband. "I'm going to take sarcasm as a good sign. But assuming you're not about to bleed out from the leg, we're checking under the vest next," he advised while easing the pants down as Darcy awkwardly angled her hips up to help. "But I see even a hint of a broken rib and we're leaving,"

Darcy made a non-committal noise in reply. She was busy giving silent thanks that she'd worn decent panties that morning.

After a quick examination of the wound, Clint stripped off his jacket and dress shirt. The shirt got ripped apart and bundled into wads of fabric, one of which Clint pressed against the gash running across Darcy's thigh.

Trying not to wince from the pain, Darcy gestured towards Clint's white tank top. "No Kevlar for you?"

"Reduces mobility," he answered indifferently.

"But what if you'd been hit..." she was cut off by a swift knock on the door before it swung open. Natasha entered, a trickle of blood running from her forehead.

"Shooter escaped," said Natasha while tossing a small medical kit towards Clint. He caught the bag one handed while not letting up the pressure on Darcy's makeshift bandage. But this close, Darcy couldn't miss the ripple of anger that crossed Clint's face.

"I'm sorry Agent Romanoff. I don't think I heard you correctly," he said in a measure tone.

Natasha exhaled slowly. "Yes you did Barton. It was Yelena. She got the drop on me and then bolted as soon as she saw other agents approaching. You know how the little psychopath feels about failure."

Clint jerked the medical pack zip open with enough force that Darcy was amazed the little pack didn't rip in half. "Not as bad as she'll feel when I put an arrow through her heart."

Natasha rubbed the drying blood from her hairline. "That'll have to wait. Agents Miller and Pritt are already busy smoothing things over with building security. We're lucky no civilians actually saw anything substantial. Status here?"

"I'm fine," Darcy interrupted hastily before Clint could say anything on that subject. She even forced an overly bright smile as she straightened up, bracing herself against the pain. "See?"

"She's lying," Clint calmly responded while he began dressing the leg wound. "A bullet gouged her thigh and there's tenderness under the vest from the impact. Her injuries are only just stable."

"Fine. I got shot. And getting shot really, really, _really_ hurts...," Darcy admitted through a wince. "But like you said; I'm still in one piece and the way I figure, there's still like at least half an hour until the shock sets in. I can still go before the committee. I can do this."

Natasha crossed her arms and leant against a chair while she surveyed the pair. "Your recommendation, Agent Barton? Evac or stay?" she finally asked.

Darcy peered towards Clint. She couldn't make eye contact; his head was bent forward as he carefully wrapped gauze around her thigh. "If Darcy says she can finish this, then we stay." He tied the bandage off, though his fingers stayed possessively cupped around her leg as he finally looked at Darcy straight on. "But then hospital. Got it?"

Darcy nodded her agreement. "I promise, soon as I'm finished with Boynton, you can take me to a doctor and pump me full of morphine."

Seeming satisfied, Natasha stood upright. "We're running short on time. Check the vest and then get to the committee room."

As the door clicked shut behind Natasha, Clint slowly sat back on his haunches. "We're going to have to take those off..." he gestured towards her shirt and Darcy realised just how much more disrobing this was going to take. "Do you want some privacy?"

"Let's just get this over with. I didn't need my dignity anyway," she muttered. With a grimace, Darcy leant her upper body forward and painstakingly began to ease the rest of her suit off. Clint's hands took over and he slid the jacket off with the lightest of touches.

"Just sit back," he suggested. "I promise not to molest you."

With a snort, Darcy reclined gingerly in her seat. "Is that what you say to all the girls?"

Clint reached for the top button of her shirt and steadily popped it open. "Only the brave ones." His fingers glided down the row of buttons, sliding each one free until he could draw the shirt open. Fearing what would come out of her mouth if she said anything, Darcy's just stayed silent as Clint reached beneath her top. He found the velcro straps on her shoulder but as they ripped open, Clint's fingers brushed over Darcy's skin and he paused. "Please tell me you're wearing the tank top we provided under this."

"It didn't fit right," she said defensively.

With a pained expression, Clint moved his hands down to her waist and unstrapped the vest bindings there. As Darcy leant forward again, he eased the Kevlar off and held it off to one side to study. While Clint was averting his gaze, Darcy folded her arms across her bra. Dignity – gone.

"It's shredded," he assessed before tossing the ruined vest on the floor.

"But at least it worked, right?" Darcy shifted slightly as Clint leaned back over her lap. He seemed to be doing his best to ignore the fact that she was sitting there in little more than her underwear. Or at least, that's what Darcy thought until he moved the hem of her shirt back so he could run his fingertips lightly over her ribs.

"You'll be bruised here by tomorrow. Still breathing ok?" he asked in a practical tone.

"Yeah, fine." Darcy didn't add that the slight catch to her breath wasn't from her injuries. Even after being shot, it turned out she wasn't exactly immune to the feel of his touch upon her skin.

"You start feeling any pain in your chest, you tell me right away," Clint said.

Darcy found she could only nod. Clint knelt beside her knees as a frown creased his brow. Her silence seemed to concern him and he reached up both hands to cup her cheeks, forcing her to make proper eye contact. "If you're just trying to prove how hardcore you are Darce... you need to stop. I need to know if you're seriously hurt."

The urge to make some breezy sarcastic comeback was there. "It hurts. A lot," Darcy said simply instead. Staring into his face, she found she struggled to be anything but honest with Clint. "And it's like there's a part of my brain that is two seconds way from freaking out about the fact that a bullet nearly went through my chest." She felt Clint's thumbs slide over her cheekbones before his hands curved behind her neck in a reassuring squeeze. "But it didn't. And a bullet didn't go through my skull because you were there..." She trailed off, her eyelids fluttering closed as Clint leant in to press his forehead against hers. "These people have tried to kill me for the last several days. But you've kept me alive," Darcy continued, her words starting to come out in a rush. "So all that matters to me right now is that I go stop a corrupt senator before he does something that could hurt you and the team. So yes. Maybe I'll fall apart later. But it's not happening until I've buried the assholes who tried to kill us."

Darcy felt Clint place a soft kiss upon her forehead. "Then we'd better get you dressed," he said in his usual laconic drawl. "You've got a hearing to get to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because there's only so much research one can do on the net - I apologise for any blatant errors when it comes to ballistics, gun induced injuries and Clint's first aid techniques.


	10. Chapter 10

_Report Card: Darcy Lewis_

_Grade: 8_ _th_

_Teacher's Summary: Darcy is an intelligent and insightful student. However this increasing tendency towards sarcasm and flippancy is not a positive development. I fear Darcy will find it difficult to be taken seriously in her academic pursuits unless she adjusts her attitude._

* * *

Clint's hand pressed against the small of Darcy's back as they entered the hearing room. Without even needing to look over her shoulder, she knew Natasha was close behind and guarding the rear. They'd barely come to a halt when Darcy heard her name called out in a bored tone by the chairman. "We'll be close by," Clint whispered in her ear. She just nodded as she felt the warmth of his touch draw away. It was tempting to glance over her shoulder and track her bodyguards. Ensure she knew where they were positioned, just in case things went wrong again. But Darcy just looked straight ahead. She had a testimony to give.

With each step Darcy took down the aisle between the rows of chairs, the panel of senators grew closer and she found herself swallowing hard. It was a relief that most of the occupants of the hearing, especially the handful of press photographers, were paying her little attention. She didn't want to think about how she must look like the most non-credible witness ever. The tears in her clothes from the bullets were being held together with surgical tape from the first aid kit. The blood stain on her pants was mostly hidden by the dark fabric but Darcy felt the dampness still trying to cling onto her skin.

Of course, one senator was watching her approach closely. The expression on Senator Boynton's face was almost worth the sharp sting in her thigh. He looked both terrified and furious that she was still alive. While Darcy slid into the padded seat waiting for her, she watched the senator duck his head and tap frantically at what she guessed was his cell phone. Wanting an update on why the assassination attempt hadn't worked out? Darcy leant her elbows upon the heavy wooden table before her and couldn't resist the urge to grin at Boynton's shiny, balding head.

"Miss Lewis," began Senator Jones, who barely raised his gaze from his notes. "You're here to make some clarifications to your previous testimony?" He was the chairman but a weak one from everything Darcy had observed. Senator Boynton had been running the show from the start.

Darcy cleared her throat before she leant towards the microphone. "Yes Senator. I also have some new evidence..."

"While we all enjoyed your fascinating testimony last time, Miss Lewis," Senator Boynton's voice boomed across the room. "I seriously doubt there is much you need to clarify and this will just delay us concluding today's session on time."

The other senators didn't protest. They were shuffling paper and glancing towards the clock. This had been a long hearing and Darcy realised they would be keen to skip any unnecessary witnesses. The mature, rational and SHIELD-approved statements flew out of Darcy's head. For a split second she went blank.

 _Oh god. I've become that dumb unemployed liberal arts student_. Darcy took a deep breath to steady her and felt the ache in her ribs sharpen. _No. No. No._ She placed a hand upon her leg, feeling the bandage Clint had wrapped around her thigh. She hadn't gone through all of this just to screw up now. All those people hadn't risked their lives to get her into this room for her to freeze. She had to grab their attention and fast before Boynton got his way.

"Look Senator, I understand that you're in a rush to go order another assassin. And that's fine. Go ahead and try..." Darcy didn't restrain her sarcasm. Not by one little bit.

"This woman is not making any sense," Boynton almost shouted to drown her out. "Security, please remove her." There was a slight rumble of noise from the audience. Even if they hadn't been paying attention to Darcy, the sudden threat of having a witness removed by force had peaked their interest.

"I'm sorry," Darcy casually moved her mouth closer to the microphone. "I'll use smaller words so you can understand me. You tried to have me killed. Repeatedly. Because you're owned by an evil group from the Third Reich..."

"Remove this woman now!" Boynton was on his feet, one finger levelled at Darcy and his face twisted in rage. "I do not have to listen to these baseless accusations..."

"Actually, I have proof. Of your corrupt alliance at least." Darcy nodded her head towards the large TV positioned towards one side. "Want to watch?" she asked, pushing her chair back and taking a couple of steps towards the screen.

"GET HER OUT..." Boynton had started gesticulating wildly. While she definitely had the attention of the other senators, none were making a move. The chairman just blinked in confusion at Boynton's outburst. Darcy cautiously watched as a couple of beefy Capitol Police officers approached from the side. She still had to get the video started. She darted for the machine but the officers seized her by the arms. But before they could move an inch, the television flickered to life on its own.

" _Hydra will get their desired results. Just give me time."_ The video of Boynton starting playing in all its high definition clarity. " _The committee is proceeding as fast as humanly possible. If you want results that will stick..."_ The senator disappeared from the screen while the audio kept playing and what looked suspiciously like classified files started popping up. Records of Hydra in its glory days. The police officers' hands slowly released their grip on Darcy.

With everyone's attention glued to the screen, Darcy dared a quick peek behind her. Sure enough, she could make out the goatee and suit hiding at the back of the room. As Darcy flashed Stark the briefest of grins, he raised his sunglasses, winked and slid the small holopad back into his pocket. Sure, some people used TV remotes. Darcy had a Stark instead.

A tiny motion in the crowd caught her attention. A couple of rows behind her, Clint slid on his fake glasses as cover while he flicked his gaze between Darcy and the two Police Officers. She gave him the faintest incline of her head to let him know she was ok. Clint's stare shifted to her thigh then her ribs, marking out her injured points. Another slight nod to indicate she wasn't about to collapse on his watch. Clint settled back in his seat and Darcy turned her attention back to the senators.

"My position on the Avengers has long been known," responded Boynton coldly as the recording finished. "Other parties feel the same and contact me to express their support. Perhaps I should have vetted my supporters more closely..." Darcy just snorted at the attempt to salvage the situation. "...but that doesn't change the core of the issue. The Avengers are a dangerous unrestrained group..."

"The Avengers are not the danger here senator," Darcy raised her voice. "This whole painful excuse of a hearing is the biggest danger any of us face right now."

"Miss Lewis..." the chairman finally spoke up but Darcy cut him off.

"No." Until she was physically dragged from the room, she wasn't going to be quiet. "You've all let Senator Boynton run wild with his corrupted bias. You've let him demonise the heroes who didn't just save this country but this _planet_ because the Avengers scare you. It's just like Tony Stark and the Iron Man suit all over again. You're scared that because you don't write their pay checks you can't control them." Darcy had to pause for a breath. The room kept silent.

Ignoring the pain it pushed through her chest, Darcy straightened and looked Boynton dead in the eye. "Since The Avengers are a little busy risking their lives defending us from magical, alien dangers to deal with this bureaucratic crap, let me be clear. Stay away from my heroes. All of you. You don't get to touch them. The Avengers are mine. And theirs." She pointed to the audience behind her and then the C-SPAN camera. "And everyone out there. The Avengers are _our_ heroes. _Our_ protectors. So if you try to come after them, I will stop you." There was a rustle that spread through the room and Darcy knew she wasn't standing alone. " _We_ will stop you. Got it?"

The committee was silent. Senator Boynton was grinding his teeth but said nothing. Darcy offered the senator her brightest smile before she turned to walk away. The Capitol Police still hovering nearby didn't move to restrain her and Darcy breathed a sigh of relief as she aimed for the door.

"Not bad," Natasha commented in the hallway as she and Clint fell into step beside Darcy. "Maybe a little overdramatic at the end..." Darcy opened her mouth to protest until she saw the teasing smile upon Natasha's lips.

"You did great Darce," Clint added.

"It's over," was all Darcy could think to say. "I mean. I testified. I'm alive. It's over, right?" She turned to look up questioningly at Clint and caught him exchanging a coded glance with Natasha.

"Stark's waiting for us at the plane," Natasha said. "Let's get you back to New York and checked out first. Then we can call this mission a wrap."

A car was waiting for them at the bottom of the steps to the building. While Clint held the door open for Darcy, his fingers grazed behind her hip to guide her into the seat. It was the briefest of touches but Darcy suddenly questioned just how ready she really was for this to all be over.


	11. Chapter 11

_You have 52 new messages waiting._

* * *

As Darcy blinked awake, she let out a groan and pulled the blanket up over her head in frustration. The dream was slipping away but she was sure it had involved Clint. He'd been carrying her again. He'd been warm and snugly and... Shoving her sheets down an inch or two, Darcy tried to remember just how exactly she'd gotten into bed. They'd left D.C. yesterday on the jet; that she could recall clearly. Next instalment on the memory banks was going directly from the plane to some small, exclusive hospital in New York. With Tony Stark sitting in the waiting room the whole admission took exactly thirty five minutes, including a visit from a plastic surgeon to tidy up her wound. Darcy recalled a minor freak out about how much her insurance wouldn't cover the whole thing. That occurred right before the nurses pumped her full of painkillers. Some truly excellent painkillers because that was the point where her recollections became fuzzy. There were vague memories of returning to the tower and being forced to drink some water. And possibly falling asleep somewhere inappropriate because there was the briefest flash of Clint carefully lifting her up and carrying her to bed.

With a start, Darcy reached beneath the blanket and felt at her clothes. The suit was gone. She was in a clean oversized t-shirt. So not naked. A good start. A little more probing and Darcy realised she was in the same bra and panty set as yesterday. So Clint hadn't seen her naked. That was good, right? Though if she'd slept through Barton undressing her, Darcy thought maybe those hospital grade painkillers had been just a touch strong. Sure she hadn't felt anything when they put sutures in her leg but still.

Pushing back the blankets and sitting up, Darcy blinked experimentally a couple of times. Nope, didn't fall asleep with her contact lenses in. She reached for her glasses on the bedside table only to find them sitting carefully upon her laptop. Internet. Wonderful, beautiful internet. Darcy was a moment away from hugging her laptop to her chest when she noticed the post-it note from Clint stuck to the lid. _"Gone to debrief. Don't go wandering."_ That was it. They hadn't exactly had a chance to talk about, well, anything since leaving D.C.. Was there even anything to talk about? Darcy chose to shove that thought aside also and open her laptop instead.

By three pm, Darcy had caught up on most of the internet. Her appearance on C-SPAN wasn't exactly front page worthy news, even if her Facebook page was covered with messages. Typical of her pol-sci classmates to have been watching. But even if Darcy hadn't become a household name, Senator Boynton's name was popping up on the political pages along with words like 'corruption probe'. Some of the witnesses from the trial had admitted they'd been coerced by the Senator to make their testimony less than flattering towards the Avengers. And while those non-scientific website polls didn't really mean anything, Darcy was a little gratified to see public support to exempt the Avengers from government interference had taken an upswing. Sure there were still some scared people out there, filling their blogs with protest. That newspaper editor had written another opinion piece but Darcy just left a scathing comment that the moderators would likely delete before long. But it still felt good.

The battle to regain control over her email inbox took a little longer. One important message came from the fancy hospital; they'd sent her the results from her exam yesterday and nothing unusual had popped up. The email reiterated to wait twenty-four to forty-eight hours before showing. _Close enough_ , Darcy thought a little while later while she tried to shampoo her hair with one hand. The bandage over her stitches was proving waterproof enough but her ribs had taken a through beating and pretty much limited arm motion on one side of her body. So washing took forever. And there had been a moment when Darcy had found a patch of dried blood over her hip and the world had spun upside down. She had to lean gingerly against the shower wall under she could breathe normally again. The patter of water upon her head was a reminder that she was alive. The reality that someone had actively been trying to kill her might hit again at a later date. But Darcy knew she could deal with that too.

The sun had dipped close to the horizon when Clint finally returned. Darcy was in the middle of replying to an email with her feet propped on a coffee table and her skirt pooling around her knees when she felt the couch shift. Clint had perched upon the back, his feet resting on the cushions beside her. "How was the debriefing?" she asked casually, keeping her eyes on the screen.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. is labelling the mission a success," Clint answered. "The analysis indicates that now the Senator is a worthless asset, Hydra lack both a reason and the resources to target you again."

Something about the way Clint fell so easily into his military grade voice made Darcy smile. Even though she tried to not be too obvious about it. "So you're off the hook? No longer my official bodyguard?"

Clint ignored the question. Instead he leaned forward to place one hand beneath her elbow and lever her arm so he could access her shirt. Without dislodging Darcy's fingers from her keyboard, he lifted the hem just enough to reveal the mottled purple bruise. "What's the update from the doctor?"

"X-rays and tests all clear. Keep up the antibiotics and fluids and take a painkiller if I need to. Plus try to avoid getting shot again," she joked. When Clint didn't reply, Darcy closed her laptop and put it on the table before she turned on the couch, gently drawing her shirt from Clint's fingers and letting it drape over her ribs once more. Leaning an elbow over the backrest, Darcy looked up to see Clint staring down at her with a serious expression.

"Agent Hill wants me to ask if you have any questions about the job offer you were emailed." His tone was friendly and he wasn't trying to avoid making eye contact with Darcy, but there were still a solid couple of inches of empty space between them.

"Kind of." It had taken the better part of an hour just to read through all the attachments. But it wasn't details on the entry-level data analyst position that she wanted to ask about. "Do you like working for S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"I owe S.H.I.E.L.D. a lot Darce," Clint replied. He rested his folded arms against his knees before he briefly looked away. "It's not always an easy job. And it involves a lot of sacrifice. But they make the world a safer place. It could be a great opportunity for you..." Clint trailed off as he turned his gaze back on Darcy. "Are you thinking of taking it?"

"Like you said. Big opportunity. And I've been unemployed for more months than I'd care to think about. But I have to say, I've read through everything they sent and I'm not a big fan of their interpersonal relationship policy," Darcy said while crinkling her nose for emphasis. "They're obviously not keen on employees dating other employees. And there's this whole section about not getting romantically involved on missions..."

"Do I need to apologise again for the job comment?" Clint simply sounded curious.

Darcy rolled her eyes at him in response before responding breezily. "I kind of get it. You're a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. The mission was your priority. I understand why romantic distractions can be seen as a bad thing."

There was the slightest shift to Clint's shoulder, as if he was restraining himself from reaching for her. "Darce," he said slowly. "You were shot. Twice. And I wasn't exactly focused on the mission when it happened."

"Clint. They were trying to kill me. As in, make me dead," she countered. Just saying it made her want to shudder. But she had to stay calm. She and Clint had to deal with this now. "See how I'm not dead though. And I know I owe a lot of that to Natasha and Stark and all those other S.H.I.E.L.D. agents. But you were the one who pulled me out of the way of a bullet. Even when we were about to get into some stupid yelling match in the middle of a senate building, you were there when I really, really needed you." And she wanted desperately for him to see that. Grateful for the painkillers she took a couple of hours ago, Darcy brought herself to a kneeling position and leant up against Clint's bent leg to place a soft kiss upon his cheek. "Thank you Clint Barton. I'm alive because of you. That's what matters in the end."

"Maybe," said Clint, his voice dropping low. Darcy barely felt Clint move before he'd shifted along the back of the couch so she knelt between his legs. Clint brushed the curls back from her cheek as he drew her around to face him; his hands a light pressure that brought her upwards until Darcy was kneeling at eye level with him. The inside of his thighs pressed gently against her hips to keep her steady. "Darce... when I saw your blood on my hands..."

"Not dead," she reminded him. "All important parts of me are still intact. Give me a few months and I'll have a sexy scar to prove it..." Darcy braced her forearms against Clint's solid legs, her fingers curved over the rough weave of his pants. She felt like she was trying to hold him in place, to keep him from running at what she was going to say next. "Clint, you need to know that I still want you. The mission being over hasn't changed that. And I want to see what this thing between us could turn into. But if you don't... if it was just adrenaline for you or some misguided protective instinct from the job, just tell me now so I can spare us any more awkwardness."

"Damn it Darcy," Clint muttered as he caught her shoulders between his calloused hands. "You're stubborn and wilful and I know that as soon as you join S.H.I.E.L.D. I'm going to spend the rest of my career pulling your ass out of danger." As exasperated as he sounded, the caress of his thumbs over her collarbone said something else. "Why did you have to be loyal." He ran his fingers under Darcy's hair, sweeping it from her skin. "And smart." He placed a kiss upon her shoulder. "And passionate." His lips brushed the nape of her neck. "And possibly even more sarcastic than me." The rough kiss he positioned just behind her jaw sent a shiver down her body. Clint spread a hand behind her neck to still her. "I don't know what will happen with us Darce," he murmured into her ear while his fingertips ran down the back of her arm. "This life isn't easy. There's a big age gap. And after everything that happened, S.H.I.E.L.D. will make it a nightmare for us to be in a relationship. But I don't care. I want this. Us." Clint cupped her face again and brought Darcy's gaze back until she was looking straight into his blue eyes. "Because you have no idea of just how fucking bad I want you Darce."

And then Clint's mouth had descended upon her and Darcy didn't doubt how he felt. His fingers grazed along her cheeks as his lips lingered and caressed and teased over her own. The kiss was slow. Indulgent. Heady. And when Clint's fingers gradually began to trail down her neck, each touch was dragging and deliberate and torturously slow. By the time he'd reached her hips, Darcy was whimpering against his mouth, her nails digging in his thighs and her nerves thrumming beneath her skin. And suddenly Clint had gripped her ass tight and the kiss became urgent and the rush of relief that burst through her turned Darcy's whimpers into a rough moan.

There was no thought of any of the other occupants wandering into the room and seeing them making out on the couch. All Darcy could register was Clint. All she wanted was to be pressed against him. Darcy shifted on her knees, her body squirming in her need to be closer. She'd forgotten about every scrape and bruise on her but when the motion tugged at her stitches, she couldn't prevent the wince. Clint stilled for a moment against her lips before he kissed along her cheek soothingly while his hands guided her until she was sitting on the couch again. Darcy was about to protest until she felt Clint slide down behind her, his legs curved around her hips and his hand splayed across her stomach to guide her back into his chest. Darcy gave a contented sigh when his lips began brushing down her neck.

"You know," she began, silently cursing the breathiness her voice had taken. "I never actually said I was going to join S.H.I.E.L.D."

Clint paused between kisses, the pads of his fingers still working circles over her body. "I know I said it would be hard but..."

Darcy cut him off. "Look, I know they're your boss and all but seriously? S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to use me as bait. Not exactly my first choice in employer after that. Besides," she added absently. "I don't need that job. I've already got a better offer."

"Really?" Clint asked before he resumed trailing his mouth over her skin.

"Mmm hmm," Darcy exhaled heavily, her head lolling back against his shoulder. There had definitely been some use of teeth on that last kiss. It was a struggle to get coherent words out. "But don't tell Stark I'm accepting his job yet. I'm still negotiating my salary. New York rent is expensive."

She felt Clint's mouth leave her neck to nip at her ear. "Tell Stark he can't have you for another week," Clint said while his hand traced down her stomach and hipbone. "You're going to be busy. Healing. In my bedroom." He swept his thumb above her stitches. "How's this feeling now?"

"It felt better when you were kissing me," Darcy replied honestly.

Clint didn't need to be asked twice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million thanks to everyone who hit the kudos button and a special “I love you all” for the kind reviews people left. I’m a terrible person who doesn’t reply to comments most of the time (raging case of comment-inflation phobia) but I never stop getting excited when my inbox says there’s one to be read. They push me to stay up until the wee hours to get a chapter finished.  
> A special thanks to purpleann who gave me invaluable advice on the D.C. political scene. All mistakes in that realm are mine and mine alone.  
> And should anyone be wondering - there are plans for a sequel.


End file.
